


The Fall of Posedia

by Hordika



Series: The Heirs of Aaravos [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aggo - Freeform, Betrayal, Established Rayllum, F/M, Fan season 3, Neolandia, Post-Canon, Prince Kasef, Tublacain, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hordika/pseuds/Hordika
Summary: As Rayla and Callum continue their journey through Xadia, their path ahead takes them through the oceancrest city of Posedia. Meanwhile, the world continues a perilous march towards war. Viren's shadow assassins have killed three of the other human monarchs.As the battle lines are drawn, Callum and Rayla are forced to witness a horror neither one of them is prepared to see.





	1. A Strong Breeze

_The Return of Aaravos approaches. The Pentarchy is in chaos following the deaths of three monarchs._

_Amidst the idle thrones, humans all across the Five Kingdoms are demanding retribution._

_The young King of Katolis returns to his people, seeking to stop what appears to now be inevitable._

_In the East, elves take notice of the turmoil sowing among Humanity, deliberating whether to press the advantage. _

_Heroes are arising on both sides. Evil is everywhere._

_Hardly anyone takes note of a moonshadow elf and a human mage carrying the Dragon Prince back to his mother, and with them the last best hope for elves and humans alike._

_***_

As morning dawns, Rayla and Callum prepare to leave the Sky Nexus and continue on their journey with Zym. They had spent roughly a week in the city of Patola, located in the middle of the Nexus, and caught up on some much-needed rest.

Callum, for his part, spent much of the week with the Sky Mage Macchus, who helped mentor the young mage-in-training on the basics of his new arcanum. Callum proved tenacious, passing each lesson with flying colors.

But time’s arrow marches forward. At Rayla’s insistence, it was time for the group to depart, and bring the lovable little dragon back to his mother.

“Thank you for all of your help, Macchus,” Rayla says. “You really didn’t have to let us stay for so long.”

The elderly mage simply smiles. “Anything for the next king of the Dragons, and his protectors. Rayla, you have brought hope for a better future back into our lives. We are eternally grateful for your efforts.”

Rayla bends her head down, trying to hide an embarrassed smile.

“And you,” Macchus beams, “Sky Mage Callum.”

With a smile, he places a hand on Callum’s shoulder. “We will be watching your path with great curiosity.”

As they make their way through the woods, Callum follows closely behind Zym’s flight path, leaping from branch to branch. Some skywing elves, and mages especially, can fly short distances. Eager to learn, Callum picked up this skill rather quickly during his time with Macchus.

Now that they’ve left the city, he’s enjoying the open air and a chance to take his powers for a test drive. Especially this close to the Sky Nexus, his new physical abilities are at their peak. He finds the wind exhilarating, almost as thrilling as when he first realized he had the sky arcanum.

He cheers loudly as he jumps from his tree branch and lightly taps on Zym’s tail midflight. “Tag!” He exclaims. “I win!”

Grinning, he lets himself down to the forest floor, right beside Rayla. She’s playful when she speaks.

“Having fun, smug prince?” She says it more like a statement than a question.

Callum laughs, “Oh, you have no idea!”

She gently pulls him into a soft, shy kiss. “I think I might have an idea,” she whispers, with a smirk on her lips, and her hand on his cheek.

The sensation of her lips on his is still new. It was only during their last evening in Patola, when Rayla and Callum were exploring the city on their own, that their conversation took a romantic turn. It started small, and sweet, with Callum wrapping his fingers around hers. It ended with the two of them pressing their lips together.

They’ve never shied away from sharing their feelings. When they had both realized how they felt about one another, they were more than willing to share that as well. Their time had come, Callum thought to himself.

He smiles, at her, at their mutual bliss. But his smile quickly fades. Releasing her hands, he averts his gaze.

“Rayla,” he whispers. “You-you know I would never hurt you.”

Meeting her gaze again, he sees her surprised expression. “Of course! Why did you feel you needed to say that?”

He begins to knead his hands. “Remember…before Patola when we…sparred.”

Realization dawns on her face. “Oh…right,” she says as she looks at her feet.

He thought this would be more on the forefront of her mind than his. Soon after their confrontation with Sol Regem, Rayla thought it necessary to teach Callum some basic skills by the blade.

“Xadia is a dangerous place, and everyone, even a mage, needs to know how to use a weapon of some kind,” she stated. “Even my mother, who was a mage, was also a skilled fighter.”

She had taken a branch from a tree and fashioned it into a makeshift staff. Handing it to Callum, she said “You don’t need to be anywhere near as good as her, but you should be able to hold your own. For now, you should start with something that’s not doing to be dangerous to yourself or to me.” She motioned to the staff in her hands. “This would make a good starting weapon.”

Nervously, Callum picked up a staff and immediately fell over when Rayla parried his staff. “Okay, that is just ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me or your weapon. Neither of us are gonna hurt you.”

After a few days, Callum marginally improved. One day, he felt a particularly strong breeze blowing from the east. It bolstered his confidence as he approached her this time. “Rayla, I think I’m ready for today.”

As a smile graces her lips, she took out her blades. “Good!” She said.

Their spar lasted a few minutes that time. Off to a good start, Callum thought to himself.

But as she swung at his feet, he jumped. He didn’t feel himself land on the ground again.

They both looked in disbelief as Callum hovered a few inches off the soil. She takes a few more swings, but he was fast. Faster than she ever was. He made lightning-quick movements, and Rayla looked as though she were practically standing still. He felt magic from the sky arcanum flowing through him.

He pressed the advantage, moving to her left. Before she even blinked, Callum had already flanked her. He bends down and uses his staff to sweep her legs.

It’s a win, he smugly thought to himself, if only for a brief moment. That moment evaporated instantly when she crashed all too quickly to the ground.

It knocked the wind out of her. She gasped for air. As she caught her breath and coughs aggressively, Callum was in shock. How hard did he hit her?

When she spoke, her voice was hoarse but angry. Glaring at him, she said, “What was that?! I thought we were just sparring!”

Callum fumbled for words. “We were! I-I didn’t realize how hard I hit you! I thought you could take it!”

“Really?! You could have torn my shins off!”

That was over three weeks ago. They hadn’t mentioned the incident since and hadn’t sparred again.

“Callum, she begins. “I was angry then, but only because I was caught off guard. That was just an accident, I _know _that you would never actually try to hurt me.”

She sighs and strokes his hair. Looking fondly at him, she tries to cheer him up. “It’s amazing what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short time. You were able to move faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. And you’ve only been connected to the sky arcanum for a few weeks.”

Callum shakes his head. “I’ve wanted to do magic so badly. But now that I’m a mage again, I realize that this power can…hurt people. People I care about. I couldn’t control it, Rayla. I just couldn’t.” He pauses. “I just…don’t know who or _what _I am anymore. I really wanted to learn magic, but not if I’m hurting others.” He looks at her. “What am I? What’s wrong with me?”

Wordlessly, she places his right arm on her shoulder, then pulls his left hand closer to her. She kisses his palm, then rests her face against his hand. Looking at him, she says, “Callum, this is still you. The same kind, albeit slightly naïve, human who gives heartfelt speeches, makes wry comments, and wakes me up in the middle of the night for stargazing.”

He snorts unbecomingly, to which Rayla laughs. This moment felt right to Callum. “So, we’re okay?”

“Callum,” she says, as she pulls him into an embrace. “We were always okay.”

As she pulls away, he hears her chuckle softly.

“What?” he says. “What is it?”

She smiles. “I hadn’t noticed that you’ve grown a bit since we met.”

Standing straight, Callum tries to get a sense of their height. “You’re right, I think I’m just a tad taller now.”

Rayla laughs, “Uh, no you’re not.”

“I’m pretty sure I am. You’re having to look up at me.”

She points to her head. “Yea, but horns still count! That’s part of me too!”

Callum scowls. “That’s not fair, I don’t even have horns.”

Smirking, she says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

As they begin to walk hand-in-hand, Callum suddenly perks up. “You know,” he begins. “I’ve been thinking about the sun arcanum since we escaped Sol Regem.”

“Uh-huh,” Rayla says inquisitively, as her interlocked thumb played with his fingers.

“So,” Callum replies. “I think I’m starting to figure out how the sun arcanum works. Much like I did with the sky. Maybe I’ll connect with that too!”

She looks at him, with a small smile that seemed to communicate both pride and concern at the same time. “You really think so?”

Callum nods. “Sure, why not? I did it once, why not again?”

“Well,” Rayla begins, “I’ve never heard of anyone, mage or otherwise, connecting to more than one arcanum.”

He starts to get a little defensive. “Well sure, but I was told I can’t do magic, period. I’ve connected to one arcanum, why not another one?”

She looks at him. “This isn’t just impossible for humans. I think it’s impossible for everyone.” Her hand gives him a squeeze. “But if you think you’re close to another breakthrough, I believe you. You’re the person I trust most in the world to—"

In a flash, Callum sees her smile disappear. She takes her hand back and nervously looks around.

“Rayla,” he says. “What is it?”

She swiftly raises a finger, as though to silence him. “Do you hear that?” She asks.

Callum listens. It’s faint, but he can make out a distant galloping sound.

“I think it’s just some wild horses,” he says.

“Yea?” she replies. “Except there aren’t any wild horses in this part of Xadia.”

Realization dawns on Callum. They’ve been spotted.

As Rayla draws her blades, Callum quickly arms himself by drawing a fulminis. Lighting sparks from his fingers.

“Stay on your guard,” Rayla says. “We have to face away from each other. Zym must stay in the middle. Protect him.”

As the baby dragon whimpers, both Callum and Rayla form a defensive perimeter. A deafening silence seizes the forest.

Callum hears footsteps coming from behind. Spinning around, he spots a huge, heavily armored elf charge at Rayla. The elf swings and Rayla blocks the blow, but staggers. Before she could get her footing back, a second elven soldier comes up from behind the first. She strikes Rayla with her shield. The moonshadow elf hits the ground, hard.

“Rayla!” Callum yells. As the soldiers turn to look at him, Callum points his hand in their direction, preparing to strike.

“Ful—” he feels a hand grab his. In a surprise, he turns around to see a masked elf. Her cloak is not too dissimilar to the one he’s seen Macchus wear; this one is clearly a mage.

The masked mage draws a rune, and water surrounds Callum’s hand, incasing the lightning.

“Lympha dissipare,” the elf whispers. The water vibrates, and the lightning is pulled away from his hand. As the liquid evaporates, the lightning is dispelled. The mage had negated his fulminis spell.

Callum’s shocked expression is shortlived. Another elf grabs Callum’s free hand and places a heavy collar on his neck. He struggles to get free, trying to use the sky arcanum to break himself loose. He feels sky magic channeling through him…then flow out of him before he can use it.

To his right, he sees a man, unmistakably a Sunfire elf, approach him, smirking all the while. He must find the entire ordeal amusing.

“So, it’s true,” he says. “You really are a freak mage. I had my doubts, but I guess our tip from Patola wasn’t mistaken. Even so, you’ll find it hard to counter our ocean mage over there. And with that collar on, you won’t have the sky arcanum to fall back on any time soon.”

He looks at one of the elves restraining Callum. “Gag him,” he says. “Make sure no more incantations are coming from this one.”

As they cover his mouth with a foul-smelling garment, Callum sees two guards drag a limp Rayla and a caged Zym. As they throw Rayla to the ground, he looks at the Sunfire elf, eyes burning with rage.

The Sunfire elf eyes Callum, and merely laughs. “Ah, instill that fiery hate. It won’t do you much good, but I’ve always enjoyed the struggle that defiant humans put on.”

Rayla raises herself to her knees, looking at him. “Who are you?”

“I am Micah,” he says, with mock courtesy. “Commander of the Lux Aurea Sunfire Knights. And you, it appears, are trespassing with this human.” He raises his blade to her neck. Rayla does not flinch.

“I’ve never seen a moonshadow elf by herself before. Where’s the rest of your herd?”

In spite of the gag, Callum attempts to yell and scream inarticulable sounds at the elves. Micah just looks at him and smiles as he shakes his head.

“It was truly wonderful to have met your acquaintance,” he says. “But we have a long day of walking ahead of us. Or at least the two of you do.”

He signals to two of the elves. “Put the caged dragon on my horse. Chain these two to the back of your mares and make them walk. We are taking them to Posedia.”


	2. The True Jester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm returns to the Human Kingdoms, and sets in motion its plan for Xadia

_Peace is a lie. There is only the quiet before the storm._

Aggo tries not to let the situation overwhelm him. However, the importance of his role is now a matter of life or death for the kingdom. He’s a guard, and he must secure the Tarsus Hall, whether during a coronation or during trivial state functions, and when a new monarch is elected, he can put all of this anxiety behind him. Life will continue as usual, and he’ll just be standing guard like he usually does.

But until then, everyone with even a modicum of political power will be arriving here, at Gulltown, for the Regnate—the election of the next king or queen of Neolandia.

It’s been a week since King Ahling was killed. He was just one of the three casualties of the Pentarchy-wide assassination campaign. No one was sure what prompted the moonshadow elves to take his life, but panic now grips every kingdom.

Prince Kasef, the late king’s son, is the first to arrive. He’s nearly twenty years old and acts roughly half that age. For years, Aggo has seen nobles visit the young prince at Gulltown, trying to curry the presumptive heir’s favor. He noticed that the prince was easily bribed by false flattery, precious metals, and even toys.

Everyone saw the prince for what he is—a petulant, spoiled, and whiny child, who they only now have to respect since he was the one and only member of the royal family left in Neolandia, and thus next in line for the throne.

But the very next morning after the king perished, the _True Jester _came to port, and its captain, the king’s brother, had returned home. He had been gone for so long that most people knew him only by his various nicknames. Glad-o-War, One-Eyed, and the Forsaken were the ones Aggo knew.

His real name, he learned, was Tublacain.

The presence of two or more royal family members triggers a Regnate and summons the nobles of Neolandia to appoint the new monarch. Still, Aggo wagers that Prince Kasef will win the day. The nobles may dislike him, Aggo noticed, but they _fear _Tublacain. It seemed even in his early days, there existed darkness within him, a pit of malice that only grew with time. He was always soft-spoken, which would not have been so eerie, were it not for the atrocious acts he’s accused of having committed.

He had been banished by King Ahling, told never to return while he was alive. Very few know the reasons for the exile. Aggo found one elderly knight who claimed that Tublacain killed three of his elder brothers. Each time he did, the knight said, Tublacain would go out and stand at the shoreline, waiting for a god to strike him down. None did.

And at night, Aggo was told, the guards could hear the banging of the rusted hinges on the door to Tublacain’s quarters, as though something inside was beating down on it, begging to be let out.

During his exile, rumors of Tublacain’s exploits quickly spread. Some had said he tied a dozen mages to the bow of his ship and used their magic to travel east of Xadia. The _True Jester _was the only ship to sail this far from the continent and survive. And who can say what other shores he had seen during his exile? Tublacain supposedly had obtained many magical artifacts during his voyages. Many of these artifacts channeled primal or dark magic. But his shipmates believed that some of Tublacain’s relics were…something more.

Aggo had stood at attention for hours. That entire time, he watched Prince Kasef pacing back and forth across the hall, eager to begin. Perhaps he thought a quick proceeding would avoid unpleasant surprises. Aggo guessed that, after waiting his entire life, he was anxious to take the crown for himself.

When all the nobles, at last, took their seats, the doors closed, and white smoke was let out through the hall’s chimney. The Regnate had begun.

Immediately, Prince Kasef seized the stage. He spoke with a somewhat nasally voice and a condescending tone clearly unfamiliar with currying favor from others.

“My lords and ladies of Neolandia,” Prince Kasef began. “I welcome you today. We are all, of course, greatly saddened by the death of my father. But now we have the responsibility, nay, the duty, to appoint the next king! And I, as my father’s only son, would be happy to bear the weight of his crown.”

The crowd remained silent. Hardly a stirring speech. Even from the other side of the room, Aggo could see the prince beginning to get irritated. He directed his annoyance at entirely the wrong target.

“Now, however, you may wonder, why did we gather here today? Why not just crown the heir? Well, it appears that my beloved uncle, who is here among us, arrived at Neolandia before my father’s body was even cold. How, do you all here suppose he did that?”

His uncle merely chuckled. For a man feared by so many, Aggo had not expected him to be so calm. “My little nephew, people have accused me of many things. Punctuality must be the least serious alleged offense.”

The prince glared at him. “I had your ship searched, old man. Care to explain what you’ve smuggled into my kingdom?”

Tublacain stretches out his hands. “Oh, I bring many gifts to the people of Neolandia. I’m sure you’ve noticed the barrels of black powder I brought from the bowels of my ship.”

He reached into his pocket, and Aggo saw him pull out what looked like fine dirt. “This, my friends, brings magic to the mortals. And with just a morsel…”

Tublacain takes a pinch from his hand and throws it to the ground. The powder lights up in a small blast, and the popping sound takes the gathered nobles by surprise as they scatter.

“With this powder,” he continues. “We’ll be able to make new weapons, to rival the mages and dragons of Xadia!”

Some of the gathered nobles applaud quietly and nervously at the spectacle.

“Hah!” Kasef taunts, but laughter is wrought with uncertainty. “You must be mad if you’re trying to impress us with your parlor tricks. But I think you and I both know you’re just a one-trick pony, right?”

The prince motions to his servant to approach him. He brusquely grabs the bag from the servant and shoes him away. “Earlier today, I had your trinkets seized. I can’t have a murderer and an exile smuggling gods-know-what into my country.”

Kasef shakes his head and forces a laugh. “I had to say, though, I was a little disappointed with how little you brought. Just some trinkets, and barrels of that fancy powder. Rather disappointing.”

Tublacain raises a brow. “If you say so, my little nephew.”

Aggo sees Kasef become visibly agitated. He fumbles through the bag and pulls out a ram’s horn. It’s slightly bigger than his hand and forearm, and it’s ornate designs are visible even from the other side of the room. It contains gold and silver rings encircling the horn, and Aggo can barely make out some inscriptions on its sides.

“Even so,” the young prince says. “I was a little curious when I found this in your captain’s quarters. A souvenir, perhaps?”

Tublacain remains inexplicably calm steady, keeping his eyes fixed on the horn. Any ship captain would have been sent into a rage at the mere attempt of another person entering their quarters.

“Maybe so, prince. Maybe so. But I must caution you, blood of my blood, that’s a powerful horn. What you hold in your hands in enchanted with dark magical forces. You must possess great strength to blow through it. Otherwise, it may kill you.”

Prince Kasef first chuckles, then let his loud, albeit awkward, laughter fill the halls. “You take me for a fool, uncle! A magical horn! I suppose next, you’ll tell me it’ll grant me a wish.” The prince eyes the mouth of the horn. “I do wonder, though, if I blew through it, would everyone here see you as the fraud I know you to be?”

His uncle made a ghastly grin. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

As though to spite the man, Prince Kasef holds the horn to his lips. None in the hall expected the loud booming noise emanating from the horn. The building’s entire edifice shook to its foundation, rocking people to their feet. He didn’t know how, but Aggo swears he could _feel _the horn’s power. Outside, birds took flight and fled, horses throw a fit, and dogs howl to the empty sky.

Prince Kasef drops the horn and struggles to breathe. He looks around, trying to speak, but can only let out a few gasps as blood trickled from the side of his mouth. He grabs his own throat, as though an invisible force was choking him.

As he fell to his knees, the crowd begins to panic. People jump to their feet, shocked and confused as to what to do next.

“Help the poor boy,” Tublacain says lazily. Looking at Prince Kasef’s servants, he motions to his nephew, now writhing in pain on the ground. “Idiots, help your prince.”

As the servants haul Prince Kasef away, Tublacain sluggishly picks up the horn, still lying on the ground. Without hesitation, he blows the horn. A thunderous, fearsome sound bursts forth. Aggo feels a grip on his chest take hold. The windows shake as cracks form on the edges. The pillars in the hall tremble so hard that ancient dust is thrown around.

A petrifying calm subjugates the assembled crowd. As Tublacain walks to the center of the room, where Prince Kasef stood, all the nobles sat down.

And when Tublacain spoke, everyone listened. 

“Lords and ladies of Neolandia, you have heard my horn, now hear my words. I am Ahling’s brother, our father’s eldest living son. Royal blood courses through my veins, the blood of kings and queens stretching back to the Mage Wars.

Yet I have traveled farther than any of them.

Only I have sailed east of Xadia and seen wonders and terrors beyond imagining!

My elder brother prefers prosperity to victory. My little nephew would have tried to avenge our fallen king.

From me, you shall have both!

One-Eyed, you call me! Well, when you have a keen eye, you only need one, and who has a keener eye than me? After every battle, my soldiers come in their hundreds and their thousands, to feast upon the fallen! A one-eyed man can aspire death from afar! He has seen the world and has much to say.

And I say that the old Pentarchy is dying. Those who follow me will feast until the end of their days.

Once, our people were conquerors. The old Neolandians conquered this land a thousand years ago. My brother would have you be content with the hot and harsh land of our ancestors. My nephew, with even less.

But I shall give you the Dragon’s Lair. I shall give you the lands and cities of the sunfire elves, the skywing elves, the oceancrest elves, the earthblood elves, and the moonshadow elves!

I say we take it all! I say we take Xadia!

All, for the greater glory of Neolandia, to be sure.

The Mage warlords of old used magic in their conquests. And so shall we.

That horn you heard, I found among the smoking ruins of an ancient civilization lying west of our continent. Where no one, human or elf, has dared to walk but me.

You heard it’s call and felt its power. It is a ram’s horn, bound with bands of gold and steel engraved with enchantments.

Ancient kings and queens sounded the horn to wield mastery over every beast in the land. Every creature, from the crows and lizards scavenging our deserts, to the great dragons themselves, will heed this horn’s call!

With this horn, my lords and ladies, I can bind dragons to my will!

Surely that, I say, is worth a crown.”

The nobles applaud, loudly and with great vigor. But Aggo can tell it’s devoid of any real enthusiasm. As though people are afraid not to clap and are scared to be the first to stop clapping. These nobles weren’t electorates choosing a king. They were hostages, and they knew it.

As Tublacain proceeds to leave, he stops at the threshold of the door. He turns and looks at Aggo with a piercing stare. “You,” he says. “You belong to me. You’re coming with me now.”

Aggo complies, too afraid to disobey. “V-Very well…your Majesty,” he stammers as he catches up with Tublacain. “Where will we be going?”

Tublacain walks away as he speaks. “To the greatest port city in the known world.” He looks over his shoulder. “We are going to Posedia. And we will be bringing the storm.”

Only three days pass before the now-King Tublacain is ready to set sail, with his flagship and three other vessels. Aggo has been assigned to the _True Jester _as one of the soldiers but feels more like a prisoner. The four-ship fleet has embarked on a voyage, and Aggo isn’t sure when he’d be coming home.

He looks toward the stern of the ship and sees the shoreline of his home disappear into the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, something I've long about: The Dragon Prince is missing a true, megalomaniacal monster. Hence, my humble contribution.


	3. A Stranger in Our House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ez knew that the crown on his head wouldn’t command the same respect as it did on his father’s. So, he’s become rather…cautious in how he presented himself. Always a bit serious, never letting himself succumb to flattery, either sincere or brownnosing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this in the Earth Nexus fic, but forgot to mention it here as well. Ezran, Rayla, and Callum have been aged up three years in this fic. So, as of season 1, Ezran would be 13, Rayla is 18, and Callum is 17.

_Every Subject's Duty Is The King's, But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own_

The crown sits heavy on Ezran’s head.

It was his father’s crown, as recently as three months ago. On Harrow’s head, it seemed to always sit upright, and his manner of wearing it never gave away just how uncomfortably weighty it really is.

On Ezran’s head, it just looks oddly large, hovering a little too high over his head and in his unbraided hair. Often, he finds it a leaning a little in one direction or the other.

Ez knew that the crown on his head wouldn’t command the same respect as it did on his father’s. So, he’s become rather…cautious in how he presented himself. Always a bit serious, never letting himself succumb to flattery, either sincere or brownnosing.

As soon as Corvus and Ezran returned to the capitol, the entire royal court had practically abducted the young King and impressed upon him a myriad of different tasks.

First, the coronation. Then, Ez must attend an inaugural meeting with the High Council. Afterward, a special session discussing the political unrest throughout the Pentarchy is arranged for the young King. Later, another meeting with the High Council, mostly to discuss the success of the previous meetings. Additionally, he had to tour the assembled armies of Katolis, followed by yet another special session discussing the political unrest throughout the Pentarchy, as though something had been missed the first time.

On and on, task after task, Ezran has to keep up with his kingly duties. The capitol never sleeps.

The only time he has any moment to rest is in the throne room. He spends much of that time conversing with Corvus, now appointed to the Crownguard. Although, as of late, it seems Corvus has taken it upon himself to try and introduce Ez to new things to be concerned about.

“Aren’t you worried,” Corvus asks. “About Prince Callum, your Grace?”

“Of course I’m worried,” the King answers. “But Callum can handle himself. And he’s not traveling alone…unless you still don’t trust Rayla?”

Corvus shakes his head. “No, I don’t mistrust the elf—er, Rayla. She’s a bit snippy, but I guess it could be worse, all things considered.”

The soldier clears his throat. “Besides, after spending some time with her, she seems to be rather…fond of Prince Callum.”

Ezran raises a brow, looking at Corvus. He already knew that Callum and Rayla are friends, but he seems to be suggesting something else entirely. “What do you mean?”

Corvus nervously looks around, while scratching the back of his head. “Call it a guess. I just noticed a few things. When the prince was unconscious, she refused to leave his side. And even after he woke up, she just had this way of…looking at him. I’m sorry, your Grace. It’s just difficult to explain to someone who’s…who’s…”

Ezran finishes for him. “Not quite an adult?”

Corvus meekly nods his head.

Before Ez could press the matter, the herald steps into the throne room. “Your Grace,” he says. “Minister Opeli has arrived. She has a matter she would like to discuss with you. About your brother, Prince Callum.”

The King rolls his eyes as Opeli marches into the chambers. He knows why she is here. This wasn’t the first time she suggested that the way to solve all the civil unrest in the kingdom would be to get Callum engaged.

Ezran never wanted to marry off Callum. He still doesn’t. He’s not sure a marriage alliance is necessary, even though many on his High Council do.

“We need allies, my King,” Opeli tells him. “And the best way to make allies is through marriage.”

Ezran tries not to groan too loudly. He imagines that the sandwiches talk Callum had in store for him will be a bit less dry, a bit more colorful, than Opeli’s depiction of marriage.

“Okay, fine, let’s say for a moment I agree with you,” said Ez. “Why not _I_agree to marry someone?”

“You’re not of age, so you would only be able to promise to marry in three years,” she replies.

“A _King’s _promise,” Ez sternly reminds her.

“Of course,” she bows her head repeatedly, as though apologizing. “But, only a queen can marry a King, my King,” she says. “And the only queen still around at the moment is Queen Aanya. She might be your age, so that could work, but her kingdom’s laws pose some…challenges for us.”

Ez squints at her direction. “Like…” he furiously waved his hand, asking Opeli to finish her thought.

“Well,” she began, twiddling her thumbs. “As you know, the law of succession in Katolis says that the eldest trueborn son becomes King.”

Ez thoughts drifted to Callum. He’s the eldest, and Ez only ever saw Callum as his brother. Their father loved Callum with all his heart. But no amount of love will make him a “true” born son in the eyes of the High Council, or the law.

“But in Duren, the laws are different. The eldest trueborn _daughter_becomes queen.” Opeli’s eyes meet her King’s. “So, imagine that the two of you are, gods be good, happily married. If you two only have a son, does he inherit both kingdoms? Or does your future sister-in-law’s eldest daughter have a better claim? Or if you both only a daughter, is she your heir, or will the throne pass to some cadet branch of your family?”

Opeli moves her hands behind her back. “Now that you’re King, you have to realize these are complicated matters, for which there are no easy fixes. If you wish to deal with them, you _have _to consider all the options. And that might include arranging your brother’s marriage.”

The King shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My…Prince Callum is away on a critical mission.”

“No doubt,” Opeli replies, “And when he returns, he must fulfill his princely duties.” She raises her hands. “I’m not saying we should marry off Prince Callum. But this is a time of crisis. We can’t dismiss this out of hand. Summon the High Council, and let this issue be debated.”

The young King relented. Opeli might have a point in letting the High Council feel heard on this issue. He can always vote down the marriage suggestion at the end of the day.

***

It took a few days to assemble the High Council. Ez decided to introduce the topic of marrying off Callum among many other issues, hoping the number of other pressing matters would distract the members.

He was relieved that no one on the High Council was particularly passionate or opinionated about Callum being married. No one… except for the Finance Minister, Altair.

Altair was a perplexing man. He was native of Duren but belonged to a family that produced many advisors for kings, queens, and nobles. While he spoke with a Durish accent, he’s lived close to two-thirds of his life in the Katolis capitol. He had a steadfast loyalty to the Crown.

And yet, Ezran’s father had pointed out how frequently Altair liked to exceed his mandate, or handle matters beyond what the King had asked. He would speak with foreign dignitaries without informing the King first, borrow funds without the King’s request, and spend funds without the King’s consent.

None of this was illegal, let alone treasonous. Since Altair’s actions always benefited Katolis, Ezran’s father tacitly allowed Altair to ask forgiveness rather than permission.

But, not three days after the High Council meeting, things changed for Ezran. After receiving news from a small noble family in Evenere that they will _not _be able to provide Callum with a bride, Ez realized far too late his mistake. Word had gotten out, and he had his suspicions as to who.

Summoning the Finance Minister to the throne room, Ezran kept the company of people to a minimum. Just Corvus, the King, and Altair himself.

“Thank you for meeting with me, my lord,” Ezran says. Sitting on his throne, he had Altair stand roughly twenty feet away. A comfortable distance, one that communicated both formality and subservience.

“Of course, your Grace,” Altair responds. He was a bit terse in his reply, as though he didn’t wish to offend the King, but had other matters he wanted to attend to.

Ezran pushes forward. “We seem to have a stranger in our house. I have recently learned that a small noble family in Evenere is aware we are seeking Callum’s bride. And that’s not all. Last night, a flock of messenger crows was released, bearing the Crown’s seal. I’m not sure who was able to retrieve or recreate the seal, nor do I really care at the moment. One of the crows was intercepted, and it appears that the letter is soliciting a marriage alliance with another noble house of Del Bar.”

Ezran taps his armrest impatiently. “So, very soon the rest of the Pentarchy will know we had _considered _arranging Prince Callum’s marriage.” Ezran made sure to use his brother’s title when talking to his advisor. “Even though we weren’t going arrange a marriage, everyone in the Human Kingdoms will think we are. It will not be easy to walk this proposal back; we will look disorganized, weak, and not in control.”

Ezran leans forward. “So, now our choices are to follow through, or weaken our standing among the other Kingdoms.”

Altair shifts slightly in his standing position. “I don’t believe I heard a question.”

Ezran raises a brow. “Did you know anything about this?”

He could see Altair’s shoulders rise a bit, then fall. Did he just sigh at his King? “No, your Grace. That is not my department,” his answer heavy with condescension, “If you wish to learn who released the crows, might I recommend speaking with the Crow Lord?”

The rudeness with which he spoke to his King isn’t a rabbit hole Ezran wished to climb down.

“Altair,” Ezran begins. “You were from Duren, originally, right?” He hopes to himself he’s using originally in the correct way.

“Why, yes, your Grace,” he replies.

“And, if I’m not mistaken, your family specialized in training messenger crows, correct?”

Altair didn’t seem fazed. “Among many other skills. We trained some of the best noble and royal advisors in all of the Pentarchy. This is how you are blessed with one of the best Finance Minister’s in the five kingdoms.”

“Still,” Ezran continues. “You know how to send a message by crows.”

“True, your Grace,” Altair replies. “As do many advisors serving you today. If you wish for me to send for all of them, I could—”

“But none of them had been so vocal about marrying off my brother like you,” Ezran interjects. “About using Prince Callum’s eligibility and unmarried status as a political tool.”

Altair clears his throat. He likely never knew the ten-year-old could communicate so well.

“Your Grace, I would never go behind my King’s back, not even to do what I think is in his best interests,” he continues. “I am merely your servant. I still believe that marrying Prince Callum is Katolis’ best hope to attain new allies in this chaotic time. But since your Grace thinks differently, I must do as my King commands.”

Ezran closes his eyes. He has no hard evidence, and this conversation isn’t getting him anywhere closer to uncovering the truth.

“Very well,” the King says. “I have my suspicions, and I thought it best to raise them with you. The Crown knows you are no traitor. Still, with such a breach of trust, and usurping the King’s voice to the other Kingdoms, I had to be sure.”

Ezran raises his hand. “Go, you are dismissed.”

As Altair turns to walk away, Ezran motions to Corvus to approach him. After the Finance Minister had left and the doors closed, he whispers his commands in Corvus’ ear. “Follow Altair very closely. See what he is doing. The very second you seem him doing something that strikes you as odd, or trying to leave the capitol, bring him to me.”

As Corvus nods and gets ready to leave, the King grabs his shoulder and turns him back around. “Tell no one about this mission. It’s just between the two of us.”

Uncertainty briefly glimpses across Corvus’ eyes, but he seems to understand before turning around to leave. 

When he’s alone in his throne room, Ezran takes off his crown and slumps in his chair. He once overhead Viren explain to his father that a King has no true friends, only subjects and enemies. He’s beginning to see why that might be the case.


	4. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla and Callum finally arrive to Posedia, against their will and far from the completion of their mission.

_Dark wings bring dark words_

Rayla and Callum were forced by their captors to march—over hills, through dense forests, and on high grass—for hours, without rest.

Their pace wasn’t any quicker than what Callum and Rayla were used to, but on their own, they could slow down and take breaks whenever they pleased. Here, being tugged continuously forward by the Knights of the Lux Aurea, forced to keep up with the cavalry dragging them onward, for miles and across rugged terrain has left them drained to the bone.

The group of elven soldiers numbered roughly 25, far more than the two of them could have handled.

Callum, still gagged and looking defeated, did little more than keep his eyes fixed to the ground.

“He’s not much of a fighter, that one.” Rayla hears a voice behind her and to her left. Turning around, she meets the eyes of the ocean mage that subdued Callum.

Rayla pretends she didn’t hear her, but this doesn’t deter the mage. “And you’re not much of a talker, I see,” she continues.

Rayla sighs. Seeing how she’s literally a captive audience, she might as well entertain the conversation.

“What do they call you?” Rayla asks the mage.

“Nimue,” she responds. “And based on what that human boy called you, you must be ‘RAYLA!’” as she imitates Callum’s voice, a snort emanates from the mage, and there’s little Rayla can do with her anger. “So dramatic, that little one. And so easily beaten. I was disappointed. Sky mages are known for being quick fighters, but all I had to do was grab your human’s hand, and that was the end of it.”

It’s true, Rayla thinks to herself. Mages are known for being some of the deadliest martial artists in the world. Their spellcasting builds muscle memory that imitates hand-to-hand combat, while their intimate connection to an arcanum allows them to channel Primal Magic and be faster and stronger than non-mage elves.

“He was never trained in magic,” Rayla quietly says. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Nimue raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

Rayla glares at her captor. “I was ambushed and flanked by two armored soldiers, who knew exactly how to knock down a Moonshadow assassin. You placed yourself near…the human.” She was careful not to use Callum’s name. “So, you could stop his spell just in time, and you were exactly the person who could. You didn’t just know where we were, you knew _who _we were. You knew exactly how to attack us.”

Her gaze never leaves the mage. “I’d like to know, who betrayed us?”

Nimue moved her horse to invade Rayla’s personal space. “Such an astute one, aren’t you,” she says, with a smile on her face as she forcefully and aggressively pinches Rayla’s cheek. Rayla can do little more than stew in her rage.

“You’re right, someone did tip us off,” Nimue continues. “You didn’t think you could stay in Patola for a week without someone sending word to the Lux Aurea?”

Nimue looks over to Callum. “But if you’re asking me who betrayed _him_,” she says. “That would be you. You knew the risks when you overstayed your welcome. You knew someone would catch on, and that someone would choose to be a good citizen. _You_led us to him.”

Realization creeps up on Rayla, along with shame. Of course, how can I be so stupid, she thinks to herself. Callum may have insisted they stay in Patola, where he could master sky magic. She knew better but chose to go along with it, because in spite of the danger he was in, seeing him so _excited_to learn magic made _her _so happy, that she foolishly let her better judgment slide just this once. Once was apparently enough.

As Nimue rides on ahead, Rayla looks over at Callum, still looking despondent. “Callum,” she mutters. He looks up at her, melancholy in his eyes. It brings her to tears. “This is my fault,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head. He tries to scoot as far as he can, closer to her. Not being able to quite reach her, she can see his cheeks rise, and eyes brighten, and in spite of his bound hands and gagged face, can feel an encouraging smile through the garment. It was the best he can muster without placing a comforting hand on her face.

She can’t help but feel her spirits lifted. He doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t even need to forgive her, because in his mind, there’s nothing to forgive. And his genuine, unconditional care and optimism is contagious. Somehow, Rayla tells herself, they’ll be fine.

At sundown, the group arrives at Posedia. Rayla can’t help but gape in awe and wonder at the magnificent sight. The walled city is made up of small islands separated by wide moats and linked by a canal that penetrated to the center. Lush gardens containing rare, exotic wildlife coexist with sprawling monuments and towers stretching hundreds of feet into the air. Roads and canals connect hundreds of thousands of homes, all glistening with the light of civilization. In the epicenter stood a great domed structure, looming large over the city, casting its shadow for miles.

Rayla had heard stories of this place, but she sees that none of them did the great city any justice. She’s never seen such a gorgeous, majestic sight in her life.

Abruptly, she and Callum are dragged by their captors to a far corner of the city, well out of sight from the scene Rayla just witnessed.

At this portion of the wall stood a derelict tower connected to a large, unassuming building. She spotted gallows, and elves restrained by stocks. Just a few hundred feet away lay a port, and the air smelled like rotting fish and old sewage. A fitting site for a prison, Rayla thought to herself.

Rayla and Callum were released from their chains and forced to kneel on the ground. The sunfire elf who spoke to them before, Micah, stood above them. No doubt the leader of their jailers.

As his sword prods at Rayla’s vest, he speaks with levity in his voice. “That looks like an assassin’s garb to me, Moonshadow elf. What is your mission, little one?”

She looks up at him. Anger flashes in Rayla’s as she takes a breath to steady herself. “To return the Dragon Prince to his mother,” she answers very evenly, trying to keep her composure.

Looking down, Micah appears unmoved. “Now that doesn’t sound like an assassination to me. Let me put it another way—what _was _your mission before you evidently abandoned it?”

Rayla pauses, though her gaze doesn’t leave Micah’s. “Before we found Zym—er, the Dragon Prince, my team was tasked with killing the King of Katolis.” She glances at Callum, her eyes softening, guilt heavy in her chest. “And the Crown Prince.”

Micah lights up. “Ah! So, you were on Runaan’s team.” She gapes at the recognition of the name. Before she can speak, he continues. “It appears that your group has become quite…overzealous. Killing several other monarchs as well.” He waves his hand. “Not that it matters. Fewer humans to deal with. Always a net plus, in my book.”

He kneels down before Rayla. “And yet, you are not among them. You deserted them.”

She can no longer hide her anger. “For the future King of the Dragons!” she bellowed. “I left so that I could bring him home! My loyalty is to him!”

Amusement vanished from Micah’s face as his eyes narrow, his brows furrow. “But you deserted your team, nonetheless,” he says, cold fury in his voice. He stands up again, looking at Callum. Her companion kept his eyes fixed to the ground, trying not to antagonize anyone. “You also appear to be bringing a pet with you as well. For your own amusement, or were you saving him for the Dragon Queen?”

As the other sunfire elves laugh, Micah unsheathes his sword. Callum looks up at him, and perhaps it was the apathy in his eyes that gives Micah pause. Rayla looks at the blade, and she goes numb as her heart races. Panic builds in her chest, and terror sears through her head like a fire burning through her mind. They’re about to kill him, she thinks to herself, and there’s nothing I can do.

Nimue moves to Micah’s side. “There’s more,” she says. The mage lifts Callum’s bag and pulls out his sketchbook. Flipping through the pages, she continues. “This one has drawn quite a number of runes. Perfectly even. He may have a knack for it,” she begrudgingly admits.

The Ocean mage then begins to smirk. “There also appear to be a few drawings of the moonshadow elf as well. Some of her in…very amusing positions. The little human appears to have something a crush for this one.”

The assembled elves erupt in laughter. Though she’s unashamed of their relationship, Rayla can’t help but flush red with embarrassment.

Micah sheathes his sword again, and kneels again, this time before Callum.

“So,” Micah looks at Callum, and pull the gag from his mouth. “Where are you from, boy?”

Rayla sees Callum’s eyes. He’s afraid, but there’s unmistakable defiance in his eyes.

“Evenere,” he answers.

Micah raises a brow. “Really? And who is the ruler of Evenere?” 

Callum hesitates but answers confidently. “Queen Fareeda.”

“And what animal is on Queen Fareeda’s banners?” Micah asks. When Callum can’t answer, Micah supplies him with his own. “A green and black dragonfly. I would think an Eveneren boy would know that.”

As Callum appears unsettled at having been caught in a lie, Micah leans in to observe his features. As Micah places a hand on Callum’s cheek, the young mage violently recoils. “I’ve seen only a handful of humans with green eyes,” he begins. “You’re from Katolis, aren’t you?”

Callum nods nervously. “Good!” proclaims Micah. “Now, one more time, where are you from?”

The young mage relents. “I’m from the capitol. I’m…I’m King Harrow’s son.”

Micah throws his head back in laughter. “Ah, so you’re a prince? Mighty kind to meet you, your majesty,” he performs a mock curtsey. “Interesting. I heard rumors that two of Harrow’s sons fled the capitol the night assassins ended his life. And that only one had returned.”

He leans in. “But you don’t look much like King Harrow, do you?”

“Well,” Callum says. “I’m his stepson.”

Micah chuckles. “So, you’re not _actually _a prince then, I see. But close enough, I figure.” Rayla sees anger simmering in Callum as Micah lifts himself up. “I seem to recall that King Ezran had an elder brother, but our spies never really paid much attention to him.” The sunfire elf’s eyes glaze over, as though lost in thought. “You must be…Callum, is that right?”

When Callum doesn’t immediately answer, Micah continues on. “It makes no difference to me whether you are Callum. I just assumed Harrow’s spare son did us the favor of dying on his own. But just to satisfy my own curiosity, if you are who you say you are, why did you abandon your stepfather’s brother?”

Callum looks back at Rayla. “Just as she said. We’re bringing the Dragon Prince back home. That way, the war will be over, and I could return to my brother’s side.”

“Ah, yes, that old story,” Micah responds. “There is the deal with your little dragon. It seems like he’ll be most salubrious for us.”

He spots the other elves staring at him blankly. Micah sighs. “It means he’s beneficial to us!” He says frustratingly. “If we give him back to his mother, she’ll be most grateful,” he continues. “Grateful enough to perhaps aid us in our war against the humans. Perhaps to wipe them out for good this time.”

“No, you can’t!” Callum exclaims. “Xadia only wants to hurt the humans because they thought we killed the Dragon Prince. You now see we haven’t! Let us give him back to his mother so that we can stop the war!”

“Oh, really?” Micah raises a brow. “And what will that accomplish? Return our world to the state of tension we’ve had for the last thousand years? Did you really think the division of Xadia, all the skirmishes, all this simmering hostility started with the death of the Dragon King?”

He leans in closely to Callum’s face. “My kind’s hatred of yours started long before you were born, and will continue long after your weak, useless body dies.”

Ralya can’t believe what he was hearing. They journeyed all this way, and now Zym, their last best hope for peace, will be used by elves as a political tool to start the war in earnest. All of her, Callum, and Ez’s efforts, all of their struggles, will amount to nothing. Some part of her probably knew their journey would end this way, but just hoped that if they just made it to the Dragon Queen, all of this could be avoided.

As Callum’s shoulders slump and his eyes gaze back at the ground, Micah looks smug at having broken the young prince. “Did you really think returning the Dragon Prince to his mother, and having Xadia learn that humans hadn’t committed one additional despicable murder among all the others, changes anything? If you did, then you’re more naïve than any human I’ve ever encountered.”

He backs away. “Still, there’s the matter of what to do with you, ‘Prince Callum.’ Even our spies know that the child-King of Katolis is struggling to maintain his grip on his kingdom. So much so, that he’s willing to bargain you off in some marriage alliance with another kingdom. It’s not much of a secret. Practically every noble house, large and small, has received a crow from Katolis saying as much. He might as well have shouted it all over Xadia.” He walks over to Rayla. “Apologies if I ruined any dreams you had of becoming a princess one day.”

Rayla says nothing, merely sitting in utter shock, trying not to betray any emotion. She tells herself that Micah is just toying with them, attempting to get into her head. But it’s working, and she is stunned at how easy it was for him to rattle her.

Micah seems amused at her reaction but looks back at Callum. “So, if you are who you say you are, we should be able to ransom you back to your King for a good sum of money.” He shrugs. “But if not, doesn’t matter much to me. Either way, we’ll keep you alive until I think you’re better off dead.”

As he turns to leave, one of the elves speaks up. “Commander,” he says. “What about the moonshadow elf?”

He looks at her, scorn in his eyes but lazy indifference in his voice. “She’s of no use to us, and she abandoned her team,” he answers. “Execute her at dawn.”

***

The two of them are placed in the same cell. Rayla’s arms are chained over her head and on the wall opposite of Callum. His arms are bound together and held by one chain to the wall. The cell is tiny, and while they are close together, the two of them are chained too far apart to actually touch each other.

Callum sits in silence, his face contorted in horror and panic. He might be scared, but he’ll be alright, Rayla thinks to herself. There’s no way Ez wouldn’t empty his kingdom’s coffers to get Callum back.

She remains calm, looking around to take a good measure of the prison. The chains seem secure, and the door is bolted tight. As they were dragged in here, she got an eyeball estimate of the number of guards. There must have been at least a hundred of them.

She sees Callum look at her, amid his panic. “Rayla, can you get us out of here?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m not going to be able to get out of these metal chains. Even if I somehow could, I don’t have my blades with me, so I’m not going to be able to fight our way out of the prison.”

Rayla motions to him. “It’s going to have to be you, Callum. Can you use your magic?”

Callum looks at his tied hands. “No, This metal clasp is binding my hands, so I can’t draw any runes. Also, this…thing on my neck is keeping me from connecting to the sky arcanum. Every time I try to draw from the arcanum, I just feel my neck brace drain it out.”

His look at her turns despondent. “I’m sorry, I can’t get us out of here.”

She leans her head back and takes a deep breath. She remembers Runaan’s training, right before their mission to Katolis. He taught her how to clear her mind, to scan a location, and swiftly determine a plan of attack. And in the event no plan of attack is possible…to accept death, so as to not fear death.

“Callum,” she finally says. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” He barks back. “How can you even say that?”

She shakes her head. The sheltered prince was scared stiff by their captivity. But he has nothing he should worry about. _He_will be fine. “I’ve been trained for years by one of the best moonshadow assassins in the world. He taught me many things, including when to realize that you’re not making out alive and…accepting your fate.”

She looks back at him. “It’s okay, Callum. I’m ready to die.”

“I’m not,” he bursts, tears forming in his eyes. “I’m not ready for you to die!”

His gaze never leaves hers, as she understands what he’s telling her. She scanned the cell and examined every critical detail in the room, except for the one that matters the most. How could she not realize the impact her execution would have on him?

Her eyes soften as her composure finally cracks, her self-control failing her. “Callum,” she says weakly. “It’s going to be alright,” she lies, tears welling in her eyes.

“You’re going to make it out of this alive…” she sobs. “Ez will get you back home…and you’ll get married to a beautiful, amazing woman…and you’ll…you’ll...” She chokes as tears stream down her face, and his.

They both try to reach out to each other, but to no avail. Their bindings have pinned them too far apart to comfort each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a dark note to leave them on. But no worries, my friends! Things will get a lot brighter for them in the near future!


	5. Dead Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Callum and Rayla remain locked up in Posedia, a different menace approaches them

Aggo is no explorer, but after three weeks of sailing with Tublacain, he’s spent longer away from Neolandia than just about any seafarer back home. His home has few sailors, and those that do sail, don’t make trips that last more than a few days. Then again, no ship had ever sailed so far as Xadia, and certainly not to make war.

This is a slow burn suicide, but after witnessing the death of Prince Kasef first-hand, he’d prefer a quick death when the elves destroy their meager fleet than whatever painful spirit took the young prince’s life.

Aggo stands on the deck of the ship, at the railings overlooking vast darkness of the ocean at nightfall. Most men and women can’t bear the sight of the amorphous void. It makes them feel small and insignificant, as though their lives could be snuffed out, and the world would not even notice.

Yet Aggo finds the sight quite peaceful, and serene. The watery chaos is constant and unchanging, and the sound of the waves below are soothing. They’re a nice distraction from the actual chaos Aggo has found himself.

Tublacain’s orders were…bizarre. Large metal tubes with a hollowed center (Tublacain keeps calling them “cannons”) have been rolled out on the deck of each of the three ships, along with heavy metallic spheres. He ordered his men to load a small caravel with barrels of that explosive black powder he showed off before. The tiny vessel was filled to the brim with these barrels, so much so that Aggo thought it would never sail. But for now, that hasn’t been a problem. The caravel has trailed their ships by a few hundred feet but always remains in sight.

Obviously, there’s something special about that vessel. Perhaps Tublacain intends to crash it into a Posedian man-o-war, and give himself one fewer ship to deal with. But destroying a single ship would hardly change their odds at all, let alone tip the scales. 

“You are troubled, young one,” Aggo hears a voice behind him, more of a statement than a question. He looks over his shoulder and sees Tublacain, watching him.

Aggo has been mostly silent and submissive to the new King, afraid what punishments awaited him if he spoke plainly. Yet, being this close to their potential deaths gave Aggo courage to speak his mind. Even if just this once, before his end. If he’s going to die, he’d rather tell the pirate King off.

“Yes, I am,” he brusquely him, glaring at him. “Troubled is an understatement. I had never been this far from home, and now I will die thousands of miles from my Kingdom, surrounded by people who will soon be dead with me. Your plan…it’s insanity. You are insane.”

“Is that so?” asks Tublacain. “And you dare talk to a King with such disrespect? Even my witless brother would have had you shackled for less. What do you think I would do?”

He scowls at Tublacain. Aggo isn’t sure where his formless courage came from, but there he was, staring down the King, calling his bluff.

Tublacain merely laughs. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect someone of your station to have such nerve. Perhaps there’s something of a spine in you after all.”

He places a cold hand on Aggo’s shoulder. “But you’re right. You are surrounded by people who will be dead before the dawn. And this bothers you?”

Aggo nods. “Four ships against thousands of Posedian war vessels? Each of which stronger and faster any ship we could hope to build in our lifetimes? I’d say our fate is assured.”

Tublacain chuckles. “The ships of Posedia are the most powerful in all of Xadia. They are imbued with powerful Ocean magic. Its fleet can repel even the largest fleets in the world,” he says. “Which is why we arrive at the city with only four ships. They would expect a large navy, not a small band. No one will see us coming until we are already at the city’s gates.”

Aggo laughs derisively. “And so what? Even with the element of surprise, we’ll be crushed like waves breaking against craggy shores!”

The crazy King appears disappointed. “Oh, such little faith. You hadn’t seen any of the world outside of your little Kingdom, while I have sailed every sea, known and unknown. Yet you presume to tell me the odds of our success?”

“Do I have to?” asks Aggo. “How much of the sea did I have to sail to know a failed plan when I see one?” He looks back at the dark ocean. “I’m just curious, why? Is there a reason you picked Posedia?”

He can feel Tublacain’s stare burning through him. “Because it’s there. And because it’s big. And no city on earth rivals it in beauty.”

This only confuses Aggo even more. “You want to destroy it because it’s beautiful? That’s bizarre.”

Tublacain flashed a smirk. “A man with only bizarre motives is a man no one suspects. You’d always keep your foes confused. If they don’t know who you are or what you want, they can’t possibly know what you plan to do next.”

“I think you’re lying,” Aggo replies, as he turns around to face his King. Even the pirate King seems to be taken aback by this comment. “If they kill us, they’ll kill you too. You’d be willing to risk death…just to confuse them?”

Slowly, Tublacain approaches him. “So many people in the world wouldn’t be willing to risk death, for anything. They spend their lives avoiding danger…and then they die. But I’d risk everything to get what I want.”

“Which is?”

The King puts a hand on Aggo’s shoulder once again, his fingers burying into the young man. “Everything,” he says. “Everything that there is.”

He releases Aggo, and walks to the edge of the deck, looking out into the night. “You’re frightened, I know. It’s only natural. The oldest and strongest emotion is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. And you don’t know what is going to happen before sunrise. For you, _that _is the unknown.”

A silent bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the sky. For a moment, Aggo can see the ominous, illuminated violet clouds above.

“I’ve sailed through the darkness before,” Aggo continues. “Thousands of miles away from Xadia, further than anyone had gone and returned to tell about it. There, I learned that the world isn’t actually as frightening as we make it out to be. Instead, I discovered that the world is really quite funny. But the joke is on us.”

“Beyond Xadia, there lie entire worlds thought lost to time. Creatures only spoken about in faint whispers. They do not live in the night. They _are _the night. Amid all that madness, one of my sailors screamed that he had seen arms rising from the water, the last thing any captain needs to hear. Then a wave rose up and swallowed her, and I blinked, and she was gone, quick as that. That was all it was, a wave, a monster of a wave. But all my men were screaming to turn back.”

"Instead, we dived down through the black abyss,” he says. “And in that lair, we dwelled amidst wonder and glory. When we arose, we saw on the horizon, a bleeding sun. It bespoke the end. These are the last days, when the world shall be broken and remade. A new dragon shall be born from the graves and charnel pits.”

“Now that I have returned to Xadia, I intend to bring that wonder and glory back with me. How many men live in Posedia, Aggo? How many women? How many children? The ocean will devour them all.”

“_How?_” Pleaded Aggo. “How are you going to defeat Posedia?”

Tublacain remains silent, and in his silence, reaches within his jacket pocket. He takes out a sphere, bigger than his fist, glowing brightly with an orange hue.

“The elves call this a ‘Primal Stone.’ This one, in particular, commands the Sun,” he says to Aggo. “It means nothing to you now, but it soon will.”

He looks at Tublacain inquisitively, fear in his eyes. “Are you…are you a mage?”

“_No_,” he responds. “I do not have the gift, though I have learned there are other ways to harness magic.”

The pirate King places the orb in Aggo’s hands. It’s heavier than he thought it would be.

“You’re my first mate now, Aggo,” he tells him. “Have this stone brought aboard the caravel. Place it on the binnacle on the quarter deck of the ship.”

Aggo nods slowly. For better or worse, he has to obey his King to have a chance to survive the night. “Anything else?” he asks Tublacain.

The King nods. “Tell your men that the sea has come for Posedia.”


	6. Glad-o-War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla talk as a new menace arrives. The sea comes for Poseida.

Once night fell, Callum no longer had a way to keep track of time in the cell. He’s not sure how much time they have left. How much time _Rayla _has left. It could be hours, or it could be minutes.

But no matter how much he tries to focus on the present, to be with her in this cell right now, he feels the seconds slip away. No matter how much his mind might try to stretch out the time, it will run out sooner or later.

Yet, neither of them has much to say in these last few moments together. The shock of the approaching end was too much for either of them to bear.

_Execute her at dawn_.

Callum can still hear those words reverberate in the back of his mind, never fading into memory. Rayla will _die_, and there is no escape. There is nothing he can do to save her.

Rayla sits in silence for several hours, looking deep in thought. Callum’s voice pierces the silence.

“Are you still thinking about an escape plan?”

She looks up at him, with a sullen look in her eyes. “No,” she somberly says. “I gave that up a while ago.”

She looks away. “My mind is just going to a bunch of random places,” she says. “Half the time, I don’t even know why I’m thinking about it.”

“What are you thinking about right now?” He asks her. Callum is a little surprised he didn’t try arguing with her. Didn’t insist on coming up with a plan. But he realizes that, when Rayla said she accepted her fate, it sapped what strength he had to keep struggling.

Now he’s just trying to keep her company until the end.

She straightened herself against the wall. “Well, I remember how many years ago, I used to help my parents’ neighbors from time to time. They were farmers, and during the Autumn months, they harvested Xadian melons.”

She leans her head back, smiling as she reminisced. “You’ve never tried a Xadian melon before, but they are just so sweet and tender, it’s like the most mouthwatering, delicious fruit in the world. I don’t think there’s anything from the Human Kingdoms that can measure up.”

Her head leans forward again. “One day, I noticed that some of the melons were being taken away from the wagons. I followed some footprints and found that a young elven boy had been stealing them. But instead of eating them, he’d just been throwing them off the side of a cliff and watched them smash on the ground below.”

Callum raises a brow. “Is this the story of how you decided to become an assassin? To fight criminal melon smashers?”

Rayla chuckles softly. “No, it’s not that. I was a precocious wee one back then, so I tried to stop him. But I was only eight, and he was twice my size, so that didn’t work out. I was so angry, and I asked him why he was doing that.”

She shakes her head, and with a smile, says, “And his only response was: ‘Smash the melons! Smash them!’”

She imitates an awkward drawl, and her impression of the boy makes Callum laugh. He’s happy she’s enjoying this.

“And that happened a few more times. Each time, I saw melons were missing, found the boy, and asked him what he was doing. I got the same response each time.”

Callum smiles, and Rayla laughs. “There’s that one-of-a-kind, lovable big dumb human smile I’ve been missing.”

He looks away, flustered. “I guess his parents didn’t give him much to do,” he says.

Rayla just looks at the wall. “I guess not. I always wondered why he was doing that. I even made a few guesses, but none of them made any sense. But I never learned why. A few months later, I heard the boy had fallen off his horse, broke his neck, and died instantly.”

Callum’s smile disappears. She continues. “And so, sitting here, thinking about that boy got me thinking about our mission. About getting Zym back to his mother. I just can’t seem to figure any of it out.” She looks at him. “Callum,” she says. “What did any of it mean?”

Callum looks back at her grimly. “I don’t know,” he says flatly.

They’re interrupted by a commotion from outside the cell. Drums begin beating, first softly, then erupt in a rhythm so loud that it sends ripples through the small puddles of water in their cell.

Bells ring outside, emanating from the city. Callum can’t make out a pattern. There’s no coordination among the bells. Just the sound of wild, chaotic ringing.

“What’s going on?” asks Callum. “Why is there so much commotion out there?”

Rayla shakes her head. “Ringing bells and drums throughout the city is never a good sign. In Xadia, that only happens when there’s a storm approaching, or…” she trails off, coming to a conclusion. She leans over to the barred window between them, peeking outside.

As Callum comes up to the window from the opposite end, they both peer out into the shoreline, as countless ship are leaving the dock, assembling into a square formation.

“That’s strange,” Rayla says apprehensively. “If it’s a storm, why is Posedia sending out their fleet?”

Far in the distance, some miles away, Callum and Rayla see three ships shimmering in the moonlight. They’re barely in view, and yet an entire elven armada has been assembled to meet them.

“Seems a bit overkill,” Callum comments, cynicism and weariness in his voice. “Are those pirates or something?”

Rayla tilts her head. “They’re obviously human ships. Even from here, I can tell that they’re not built like any elven ship I’ve seen.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Callum catches a glimpse of a small vessel, approaching the city from a different angle and flanking the armada. It’s slow and loaded with dozens of barrels weighing it down.

“I think that’s a caravel,” he says. “But it doesn’t look like anybody’s on board.”

As the ship’s jib tilts toward land, Callum spots a symbol on the sail, and his eyes widen. “Oh no,” he says quietly. He can feel the color drain from his face and a chill coming down his spine.

“What is it?” Rayla asks him.

“Those _are_ pirates,” he tells her. “That red eye on the sail. I’ve seen it before, but only in stories. My step-dad told me that people ought to be afraid when they see that symbol.”

She shakes her head. “Stop being vague! What is it?”

“It’s the symbol of One-Eyed,” Callum whispers. “Tublacain. He’s one of the most infamous pirates in history, but why is he here?”

Rayla draws his attention back to the caravel. “Look! Something is shimmering there…I think it’s a Primal Stone!”

“You think so?”

“Yea!” she exclaims. “It’s definitely a Sun Primal Stone! Nothing else glows like that. But, why is it on the ship if no one’s on board? Was it just left behind?”

They see flashes of light emanating from the three ships in the distance. Callum hears small sounds, like a bang or a crash, moments later. Suddenly, the caravel’s sail is ripped apart, followed by a piece of its hull.

Why are they destroying their own ship, Callum asks himself. His thoughts drift back to the Primal Stone sitting on the ship, reminiscent of the one he used to carry. The one he had to destroy himself…in order to create a storm…

The realization of what is about to happen rips through Callum as he ducks.

“RAYLA!!” he screams. “GET DOWN!!”

The intensity of his voice compels her to do as he says. They both move down and face away from the window. Callum crouches as low as he can, while Rayla, chained to the wall, moves her legs to her head to protect themselves. As soon as they do, Callum hears several concussive blows, like the crashing sound he heard earlier, but much closer.

With his head facing down, he sees the ground light up, as though dawn had broken and daylight burst forth all at once. The blinding light illuminated the cell, and as it heats up to an unbearable level. A deafening silence smothers the room before loud wind gusts through and shatters the wall like it’s made of paper.

The rupture shakes the cell, and Callum, to their core. As the wind from the shockwave continues to bear down on him, Callum tries desperately to remind himself to keep breathing.

***

“Prepare to land,” Tublacain says, disinterestedly.

Aggo can barely hear him over the sound of the explosion, reverberating for miles in every direction. The King’s trick had worked, just as he said it would. The Sun Primal Stone must have been shattered when they fired on the caravel, and the blast it produced when it did wiped out the entire fleet.

The blaze engulfed much of the city, lighting the sky in an ugly orange hue. Where once there was darkness, the ship was illuminated. Aggo can see the shocked expressions on all the men around him.

Yet, Tublacain was somewhat apathetic about his victory. No joy, no triumphant glee. He simply moved to the ship’s quarterdeck as though lazily preparing for the next task at hand.

“Aggo, instruct your crew to begin firing on the city,” he tells him. “The other two ships will make landfall now.”

“But, your Grace!” shouted Aggo. “We don’t have the men to take the city!”

Tublacain nodded. “And? What’s your point? We don’t need to conquer the city. There’s hardly any city left to conquer. We raze what’s left to the ground and move on.”

Aggo face turned white at what he was hearing. “But…their soldiers! The elven defenses! I don’t think our men will be able to fight that! They’ll all die!”

Tublacain looks contently at Aggo, as though barely noticing his presence. “Maybe so,” he begins. “Just tell them, ‘Don’t die with a clean sword.’ Now, prepare to land.”

***

_And so he rested, upon his mighty throne_

_The King Above the Oceans, the Lord of Seas_

_But now the tides sweep aside his shores_

_With no one there to see_

_Yes, now the tides sweep aside his shores_

_And not a soul to see_


	7. The Doom of Posedia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tublacain arrives as Callum and Rayla attempt their daring escape.

It took a few moments for the intense ringing in Rayla’s ears to settle down and her vision to return to normal. The shockwave had rattled her, but as her composure returned and the ringing faded away, she had the chance to assess the cell.

Her chains remain intact, and she still cannot break free. Callum is still covering his face with his arms. The wall and window had been blasted apart. Outside, fires raged, and screaming could be heard. The air smelled of sulfur, as well as a thick scent of iron. At first, she has no idea where that metallic smell is coming from until she remembers Runaan training her to identify that smell…in blood.

At her feet, she notices seawater has flooded the cell and the prison. The screaming, the smell, and the seawater all flood her senses and her mind, and nearly make her throw up. She forces the thoughts away from her, drowning it out by focusing on the most important thing right now—Callum.

She sees Callum stir. He looks dazed as he scans the cell around him, before turning to Rayla.

“Are you okay?” she asks him.

Callum nods. “I’ve got it, Rayla,” he tells her.

She stares at him, confused. “Got what?” 

“The Sun arcanum.”

Her eyes widen. With both of them chained up, they will die as soon as someone finds them. But if Callum can do a form of magic that won’t be negated by the brace around his neck, there’s hope they’ll make it out of this.

“How do you know you do? You don’t know any spells with Sun Magic,” she tells him. Rayla tries to be careful with how she words her question. She doesn’t doubt Callum, but after a night of bleak despair, she doesn’t want to falsely believe they’re out of this mess just yet.

Yet Callum presses on, speaking almost too quickly for Rayla to hear him. “It’s faint, and I was a little shaken up by the explosion…but I know it now. The Sun’s heat and light… it can be used to heal, and to grow and extend life… but it can also be used to destroy it. How can these two things be possible with the _same _energy? But that’s when I realized, each is necessary for the other! The light brings life, but then after death and decay…destruction moves it all away, taming the ground, to bring new life. Again and again!”

Rayla tilts her head, confused by his rambling. This makes even less sense than the sky arcanum, she tells herself. But if Callum is sure, so is she.

“Can you use Sun Magic right now?” she asks him. “It’s still dark outside.”

Callum shakes his head. “I’m not sure…but I think there’s enough lingering Sun energy for me to draw from, and I think the fires will work just as well.”

He closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the uncertainty is gone, replaced with a renewed sense of resolve and purpose. “Yes, I can do it! I’ve channeled Sky energy through me before. I can do it with the Sun.”

As Callum's body begins to glow, small cracks and fissures light upon his skin. They cover his entire body before making their way to his face, and then his eyes. As they glow, she sees his hair brighten as it is shifted around by the glowing aura. He grunts and tears through his bindings on his hands, breaking them apart like they had been made of twigs all along. Next, he tears off the brace from his neck, once again making the act seem effortless. He huffs and gasps, as though trying to keep an insurmountable fury at bay.

He walks over to Rayla, still chained to the wall. With a single hand, he crushes one of her bindings, and then the other, like they're made of paper. When she falls to her knees, Callum drops to his right beside her.

Rayla looks into his glowing eyes. She can see it clearly now—Callum had finally awoken.

As Callum reaches out to her, Rayla flinches and raises her hands defensively, as though to ward off danger. She’s alarmed by her survival instinct. She’s felt annoyed, irritated, even angry at Callum before. But never, in the time they’ve known each other, has she felt _scared _of him.

She tried to suppress these worries. This is still _Callum_, she tells herself. He would never hurt her.

But Callum sees the fear in her eyes. As realization grew on his face, he looks at his hands, as though they are now utterly alien to him. Rayla didn’t see this on Callum’s face when he connected to the sky arcanum. Then, he had shown only excitement and joy.

Now that he connected to the Sun arcanum, and entirely new emotion took hold—Panic.

“Rayla,” he says, his voice cracking, eyes wide in terror, looking at his arms now engulfed in hot, fiery veins. He looked up at her, as though he’d just seen a monster. “What’s happening to me?”

Wordlessly, Rayla reaches out with her free hand to one of Callum’s. He tensed up, still afraid to touch her, but she took his hand all the same. In an instant, the fiery cracks disappear, and the flaming glow was gone. She brought his hand to her face and gently kissed his palm. As she presses her cheek into his hand, she says softly.

“Callum, this is still you.”

She takes her hands and places them on his face. “This place,” she asks him. “Can you get us out of here?”

His eyes meet hers. Callum must realize what she’s asking him to do. Usually, they would fight side by side, but she won’t be able to help much until she gets her blades back. He’ll have to do most of the fighting for the meantime.

She doesn’t like it. It’s not fair to put so much pressure on Callum to do all the fighting, and she’s uncomfortable with hinging their escape entirely on his ability to use his new powers. But right now, they don’t have a choice. They won’t survive the night any other way.

Yet, there’s resolve forming in Callum’s eyes as he looks into hers. That nascent confidence, still a new sight from the amateur mage, takes form again.

“Yes,” he tells her. “I can.”

Rayla grins, relieved, and proud. “Good! Can you use Sky Magic again?”

“Let’s see.”

He draws a rune and takes a breath. He looks at the prison door, its hinges made weak by the blast.

“_Aspiro_!” he yells. Wind bursts forth, and tears open the gate, flinging the remnants of the door against the wall on the other side of the hall.

“Yea,” he says assuredly. “I can do Sky Magic again.”

Rayla’s breath hitches in the back of her throat as she hears footsteps approaching. The blast must have been loud enough to get some unwanted attention to head their way, even as everything around them falls apart.

“I think we have company,” she grimly states.

Callum’s body glows again as he wordlessly raises his arms. Facing the door, his fingers curl into fists as he bends his knees and takes a fighting stance. She’s never seen him this daring, this willing to take on whatever comes down that hall.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells her. “Go…find Zym and get out of here. If I don’t make it out, you’re going have to take him to his mother.”

Her eyes grow wide as she frantically shakes her head. “What? No! I’m not leaving you here! There must be over fifty armed guards in this prison!”

“I can handle it,” he says impassively as he draws another rune. Lightning cackles around his hand and then spreads to his body. Even as it touches the water at their feet, it doesn’t conduct and electrocute anything around them. Callum has perfected his control over this spell, blanketing his body with its energy, as though protecting himself with it.

He turns around, and even as his eyes and face glow in an unsettling reddish tint, his smile settles her. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

Rayla gives him a small nod and, in a flash, he’s gone. The next thing she hears is the sound of sunfire elves yelling along with thunderous booms and clatters.

He’s buying her time, so she resolves to find Zym. Looking behind her at the torn wall, blasted apart by the explosion, she decides to climb along the side of the prison. When she steps out of the cell, she is hit with the overwhelming metallic scent, no doubt from the dead and dying below.

Climbing outside, she gets a better view of Posedia, and she gapes in horror at the flames that have taken over the city. The epicenter’s enormous dome, once looming large over the city, lies in ruins as pillars of fire burn around it. Many of the islands, and the beautiful buildings, monuments, and towers that stood on top of them, were simply gone, washed away by the flooding canals. The lush gardens were burned away, the roads made impassable. This once stunning light of civilization had gone out.

The elven fleet is a burning wreckage, slowly sinking below the sea. She sees survivors, burnt and unburnt alike, struggle to stay afloat amidst the waves. Tears form in Rayla’s eyes as she sees one broken man-o-war sink below the ocean, its force pulling many unfortunate elves nearby down under the water.

Three human ships make their way through the burning debris as they continue to fire projectiles into the city, and smaller boats with human soldiers make their way to the beaches. At this point, there’s hardly a point. Posedia can no longer defend itself. She realizes they’re only firing just to keep hurting whoever is left.

Wiping the tears from her face, she turns around, takes a deep breath, and keeps climbing around the side of the prison. She keeps going until she hears a frantic yipping sound. Approaching a window, she sees a caged Zym, in a panicking frenzy, yet ignored by the two guards facing away from him.

Easy targets, she thinks.

Rayla slowly climbs in and moves slowly around the interior wall. Zym catches her eye, just as she hovers over the guards. She grunts as she jumps down and tackles one of them, slamming his head against the wall.

He’s knocked out cold. The other sunfire elf immediately takes a swing at Rayla with her broadsword. Rayla deftly dodges one powerful strike, then the next before rolling away from the guard. Sunfire elves are typically stronger than moonshadow elves, and this is one certainly no exception.

But Rayla learned her lesson in fighting the Sunfire elves that captured her. They might be strong and armored, but they’re nowhere near as fast as she can be. And for moonshadow elves, _speed_ is armor, and strength costs weight. The more this left tries to swing at her, the more tired she becomes. Grabbing a spear on the wall, Rayla continues to dodge her opponent as she keeps throwing useless strikes at her.

Timing is everything, Rayla tells herself. Runaan taught her that lesson. If she can keep this fight going, all she has to do is outlast her opponent. She continues to dodge until, finally, she sees her opening. The sunfire elf raises her blade before trying to swing down on Rayla. She steps out of the way just in time as the sword hits the ground. Rayla then steps on the elf’s arm, forcing her head down just as she lifts her spear. In a precise shot, Rayla gives one thrust and strikes the elf in the head with the spear’s handle. The elf collapses on the ground, still alive, but unconscious.

Timed perfectly, Rayla tells herself as she smugly spins the spear in her hand.

She opens up Zym’s cage, and the baby dragon immediately jumps on her shoulders. Rayla smiles and chuckles as he lays a few zapping kisses on her. On the table, she spots their remaining things: her blades, Callum’s bag, and his sketchbook. Her gaze softens as she looks at his book. She thinks about the kindness, the softness, and the compassion that she’s shown her. He’s a gentle soul, who has _never _wanted to hurt anything, even now while he gives her and Zym the cover they need to escape.

Can she really let someone like him die in a place like this?

I can’t leave him behind here, she tells herself. I have to find him. Rayla looks at Zym sadly and sighs. If their roles were reversed, she’d give Callum a proper scolding for risking the Dragon Prince’s life just to save her own. She would tell him that returning Zym to his mother is the one thing that matters. But she can’t do that herself. He means too much to her.

She strokes the dragonling’s chin.

“I’m sorry, wee one. You’re not safe here, but…I need to find him too.”

She grabs her blades first before consolidating Callum’s things into one bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Racing through the flooded hallways, they cross dozens of sunfire elves lying unconscious on the ground. Callum was likely here, she tells herself. With the watery floors illuminated by the hung torches, she continues to follow the trail of unconscious soldiers, hoping to find him at the end of the trail.

Rayla turns a corner and stops in her tracks as she comes face to face with five guards, all training their gaze and their blades at her. She clenches her fist and reaches for her own, but before she can draw her swords, the wall erupts as a glowing, electric pillar of a human breaks through the bricks.

It’s Callum! Rayla feels her fists relax.

The force of his movements knocks all but one of the sunfire elves. The last poor soul attempts to hit Callum, who simply dodges, grabs his shield and tosses him down the hall. He keeps going as he breaks through the other wall.

Rayla jumps through the hole, attempting to catch up to him so they can all get out. As she continues to walk, she suddenly sees the seawater on the floor begin to flow the opposite way. First slow, then quickly picking up its pace. Rayla freezes, as she cautiously turns around to find Nimue, the Ocean Mage, using a spell to draw the water back.

“What’s this?” she asks, holding the ocean water in a sphere floating over her hand. “You want _me _to be the hero who rescued the Dragon Prince and killed the traitorous moonshadow elf? You’re so kind!”

Blood drains from Rayla’s face as a chill works its way down her spine. She’s trapped, and she has no way of fighting the mage.

But she blinks, and in an instant, she sees Callum in the corner of her eye. Raya allows herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

He steps between Rayla and Nimue, and stretches a glowing hand to block the Ocean Mage’s path. “You’ll have to go through me.”

The Ocean Mage is unconvinced. “Really?” she asks sardonically. With a flick of her wrist, she throws the sphere of water back at them. Callum bellows as his glow intensifies, and the water collapses into steam.

Nimue remains unamused. "Well then, I stand corrected. Looks like you have some fight in you after all."

Callum begins to draw a rune, but Nimue is quicker.

“_Pressio profundum_,” she whispers.

Callum’s hand freezes as the walls shake and crumble with an intensity Rayla’s never seen. Rayla herself finds herself struggling to stand, struggling to breathe, as an intense level of pressure begins to overtake her.

They’re trapped. Nimue’s focus on the spell will keep them from moving, and very soon the ceiling will collapse on top of them, unless they suffocate first.

Callum, yet, persists, and refuses to relent. His glowing form's aura grows, he lifts a fist and shoves it to the ground. It shakes just enough to break Nimue's concentration. Before she can recover, he draws his fulminis spells and hits the water, resulting in lightning traveling through to Nimue.

It’s a small burst, so it doesn’t kill her, but it’s enough to knock her down to the ground. Grunting, she tries to retain her composure and lifts a hand. She starts to get back up, and extends an index finger, as though preparing to cast another spell.

Before she can, Callum races up to her so quickly that Rayla barely sees him move. He grabs her hand, and after a sickening crunch that makes Rayla’s stomach turn, Nimue screams as she falls back to the ground. As Callum raises his fist as though to strike her, Rayla panics at the thought of what will happen next.

In a split second, she drops Zym and runs up to Callum. As she does so, she sees him standing over Nimue, with the Ocean Mage’s unbroken hand raised to shield her from the incoming attack. Rayla stands there frozen, unsure how she can possibly stop Callum right now.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to.

He merely shakes his head and lowers his hand. “If you leave now, you might make it out of here before it’s too late.”

Slowly, Nimue makes it to her feet, nursing her broken hand. Still, even now, she takes the time to throw one more snide jab.

“Even in the throes of unfathomable rage, you still can’t take a life,” she sneers. “All that power and your heart is still too weak for a fighter.”

Callum is barely looking at her anymore. “The power to take lives doesn’t matter. But the power to forgive and move on…that’s what makes for a strong heart.” His lips curve into a grin. “A certain Katolan King taught me that. Now, leave while there’s still time.”

Nimue takes off without so much as another word. As Zym runs over to Rayla’s feet, she Callum’s steadfastness begins to fail him, and exhaustion sweeps his face.

As he staggers, Rayla fears he might topple over, and instinctively rushes to his side to let him lean against her.

His breathing becomes shallow and ragged, his face looks almost pained. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I don’t think I’m used to using this much magic all at once.” He looks at her as his fiery glow vanishes, and she sees those soft, vulnerable eyes again. “I’m spent. I’m not going to be able to keep it going.”

She kisses his cheek, and then his head, as though it’s been a lifetime since she believed she could ever feel him against her lips. “That’s alright, don’t worry,” she whispers into his hair. “You did great, and you brought us this far. I can carry us the rest of the way.”

Callum nods as he finds his footing again. He takes Zym from her as the two of them follow Rayla’s lead out of the prison. The air is filthy, wretched, and almost suffocating, but it feels liberating all the same to finally breathe the outdoor air.

As they step outside, a few straggler guards coming from the docks approach them, swords drawn. Eight sunfire elves, against a baby dragon, a wearied mage, and a former assassin. Not great odds, Rayla tells herself.

Nevertheless, Rayla is unperturbed, as she draws her blades and stands in front of Callum and Zym, ready to defend the group. As they walk toward them, Rayla thinks through their options. If she takes them head-on, all three of them will probably die. If she can distract and stall them while Callum and Zym flee, then maybe, _maybe, _she might be able to survive and catch up with them. But even if she doesn’t make it, at least the two of them can escape this hell.

An elven life for a human and a storm dragon. Fair trade, she thinks to herself.

But before she can tell Callum to run, she sees the sunfire elves’ gaze veer behind Rayla and, with a look of terror on their faces, they sheath their blades and flee. A pleasant surprise, she thinks, but she’s even more alarmed by what could possibly scare them off.

Turning around, the three of them look at the wooden gate, straining as it leans toward them, looking as though it would burst. In a heartbeat, it does, the wood shattering to pieces, as dozens of furious and ravaging human soldiers storm in and head directly in their direction.

“Moon above, RUN!” she yells. Callum and Zym don’t have to be told twice, and as the three of them flee to the docks, she sees a tiny canoe in the corner of her eye and leaps into it. Callum follows suit with Zym, and as the dragonling crawls over to hide in Rayla’s arms, the young mage begins frantically paddling them away from the prison. They barely make it in time before the raiders set the docks ablaze, following swiftly by the prison.

As Callum rows away from land, his gaze faces the burning city. It contorts in pure horror and, in spite of seeing everything she needs to from his face, Rayla turns around all the same. What she finds was even worse than before. Flames have engulfed everything. Screaming elves jump into the ocean to escape the fires. Ships fire aimlessly into the remnants of the city. Before long, all the shrieking fades away. Whether that’s because of how far they’ve made it, or because there’s no one left to yell for help, Rayla prays she never has to find out.

She can’t bear the sight anymore, so she turns around. Yet, behind Callum, what she finds does not calm her down. His gaze eventually turns behind them too, as both see a large human ship sail directly in front of them.

They can see them, and Rayla knows it. It’s too late to flee. As the ship approaches them, she sees sailors merely eying them. Their expressions are blank, almost as if there’s nothing even remotely rational left in them. Just creatures of the night, inflicting as much harm as they can. Never in her life has Rayla been this terrified.

One man walks on a plank of wood, extended out from the ship. As he reaches the end, he stares at them with his one good eye. The patch on his left bears a mark similar to the symbol Callum said belonged to Tublacain. This must be him, or at least one of his captains.

The more she looks at him, the more she realizes that he isn’t staring at her, or even Zym. Instead, he stares at Callum, and _only _at Callum, as though he’s familiar with him. His eyes grow intrigued, even excited, while the rest of his face remains morose.

Yet, by some miracle, the man and the sailors turn their gaze back to the city. The ship sails right past Callum and Rayla. She’s too confused to even be relieved. They were _dead_ at that moment. They were going to be taken aboard, or the pirate ship was going to break apart their boat. And that would have been the end of their quest to return Zym to his mother.

But they didn’t, and so the three of them survived. And the why of it all would drive Rayla insane if she thought about it.

Instead, Rayla forces it out of her mind, and she clings to Zym in her arms. She stares at the bottom of the boat, thinking of nothing else. Looking up at Callum, she sees him staring at the same part of the canoe, looking momentarily behind him to get a sense of their direction, but never back at the city.

She tries to control her breathing and her exploding heart rate. Rayla steadies herself as she pushes away all thoughts and worries about where to go from here.

They’re alive, and they’re safe. For now, that’s enough.


	8. The Moonshadow Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla make camp, and try to move past their doubts and nightmares.

Callum kept rowing through the night. He rowed for as long as it took before Posedia—what’s left of it, anyway—and the ugly orange hue in the night sky over it were finally out of sight. He kept as close to the shore as possible, while Rayla with Zym in her arms guiding the way. Finally, after hours of rowing, the group came a good enough landing site to rest.

They walk inland just far enough to lose sight of the shore. When they laid down, Callum falls asleep almost right away. The poor boy had pushed himself to his limit using magic he was unfamiliar with, just to get them out of there. Then, he spends hours frantically rowing through the sleepless night, before they were all finally safe.

Zym fell asleep soon after. Curling up at Rayla and Callum’s feet, the dragonling was simply happy to have room to spread his wings after a day and night in a small cage.

Rayla, however, does not sleep. She cannot sleep. There were just so many moments where she knew she should have been killed, and all in such quick succession that she couldn’t process what just happened. First, she was to be executed, then the prison was blown apart. An Ocean mage had her dead to rights, followed by a company of elves, then a company of _humans_. And at the end of the road, they came face to face with the man that probably started this nightmare. When he saw them there, helpless and alone, he just…let them go. That alone scares here more than if he attacked them. What could have he intended?

Rayla trembles while Callum’s arms are loosely encircled around her. She pulls Callum’s arms further around herself. She wouldn’t admit it at first, but being in his embrace makes her feel somewhat protected, even while he’s asleep.

When she, Callum, and Ezran embarked on their mission to return Zym to his mother, Rayla had assumed she would have to be their protector. She was a trained assassin, physically capable, and familiar with the dangers and perils of their mission. But while she’s had to protect Ez and Zym, more often than not, it was _Callum _who was protecting _her_, and very rarely the other way around.

He protected her from Claudia and her Dark Magic, the river monster, Soren and his guards, Sol Regem, and now, from the death and destruction that befell Posedia.

She looks at his resting face and leans forward to kiss him on the forehead. All this time, Callum has been her protector, and never once asked for anything in return. She doesn’t understand what she did to deserve him or earn his fondness of her.

Rayla has undoubtedly taken a liking to the prince. She’s never met someone quite like this strange, headstrong human boy. He’s both brave, yet vulnerable. Protective, yet sensitive. Strong, yet gentle. Daring, fearless, and heroic, yet compassionate, thoughtful, and _so_, so kind.

All her life, Rayla has never met someone so inconsistent. She was never able to pin him down. Whenever she thought she had him pegged, he goes and does something that completely surprises her.

He’s outrageously frustrating.

Yet, she loves that about him. And the more she thinks about him, the more of his “things” she finds she loves. His goofy grins, his ridiculous questions, speeches, and plans, even his smelly scarf! She also loves how attentive he is, how he looks at her now. And above all else, she loves how, no matter what, he _always _sticks by her side.

So, it breaks her heart, knowing that all of that will be taken away as soon as Zym is home. He’ll have to go back to Ez, marry a stranger, and help his kingdom. A kingdom and a life she has no place in.

She’ll be all alone. Changed completely yet forced to go back home. All without the person who, with each passing day, is becoming more and more irreplaceable in her life.

But it’s Callum’s _duty _to his people that he takes part in a marriage alliance. Katolis is his home, and his people need their prince. He _has _to protect and serve them. She can’t stand in the way of that, and she knows, if the situation were reversed, she would do everything she can to protect and serve her own people too, even putting aside her own wishes.

So, why does it hurt so much?

Her thoughts are interrupted when she feels Callum begin to fidget. He whimpers, as though some invisible force is giving him pain. She feels his heart rate pick up, his breathing becomes panicky. He’s having a nightmare, Rayla thinks to herself.

He shifts suddenly and locks Rayla in a tight embrace. She’s surprised by the sudden force with which he seized her.

It hurts, and she struggles to push him away or to break free from his hold. But he’s too strong. She keeps trying to push away, straining against his grasp, yet it’s no use. As he continues to hold her, she tries to remain calm as his grip makes it harder for her to breathe.

One of his hands grabs her arm, and she gasps in pain. She tries her hardest not to cry out, but it’s almost too much to bear. He is squeezing her arm so tightly that she worries he’ll break it off.

“Ez…” he says. “Ez? Ezran! EZRAN!”

Rayla quickly places her hand on his cheek. “Callum!” she shouts. “CALLUM!”

As his eyes bolt open and look around in every direction, his grip on her loosens to nothing. As he takes quick, anxious breaths, Rayla takes in mouthfuls of air now that she can finally breathe again. She shifts her body away but doesn’t move her hand away from his face. Her arms are sore, and she feels a bruise forming on her arm, where his hand had grasped her. But her attention is entirely on him.

As he continues to huff and his heart rate continues to run at breakneck speeds, she pushes away her own pain to try and calm him down.

“Callum,” she says softly, rubbing his cheek. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

“E-Ez,” he stammers. “I-I saw Ezran—”

She stops him. “Ezran is okay. Everyone is alright. It was just a nightmare.”

“It was so awful, Rayla,” he mutters. “It was terrifying. I saw Ezran…our mother…all blown apart. They were—they were…”

Rayla gently shushes him, guiding her hand through his hair. “I know, Callum. It _looked_ terrifying, just from what I saw. But you’re okay.”

She presses a soft kiss on his brow to settle him. She feels his pulse return to normal. “Callum,” she whispers faintly in his ear. “You’re okay.”

Suddenly, he pulls away, hands on her arms, feeling her shake. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “You’re—you’re trembling.”

Rayla shakes her head. “I couldn’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see the same thing. Bodies everywhere. The entire city on fire.” She shuts her eyes as they tear up. “I can still hear the screaming. And the smell, Callum. Moon above, the smell! There was just so much blood and sulfur that it makes me sick just thinking about it!”

She feels him shudder. “I know,” he says quietly. “The things I saw…I’m never going to forget that. I just…hope there’s still time. That we can return Zym, and this will all be over.”

“It will be,” she says to him. “I’m sure of it.”

As she scoots back up to him, Rayla slips her arms under his as they embrace again.

Rayla winces when he touches her arm. He moves away, looks at her arm, and sees the bruise forming.

“Are you hurt?” Asks Callum. He looks at her arm. “What happened?”

Before Rayla can speak, he puts two and two together. She was hurt when he grabbed her in the midst of his night terror. He gasps in horror as he puts a hand over his mouth. _He _had hurt her, he must think.

He tries to pull away, but Rayla grabs his lapels. She can’t let him think he’s a danger to her.

“Rayla.” he’s in shock. “Rayla, I’m so sorry. I never meant to do that to you!”

Frantically, she shakes her head. “That was not your fault!”

“How can you say that, when I hurt you?”

“Because you were asleep!” she exclaims. “I’m not going to blame you when you’re not in control! It’s just like…like…”

Rayla can’t think of an example. But Callum can.

“Like when I was using Sun magic with that form?” He asks her.

Rayla says nothing, but her eyes search his, trying to understand.

“I…I wasn’t myself,” he tells her, guilt dripping in his voice. “It made me much faster and stronger than I’ve ever been, but I could feel it ripping me apart. Like every fiber of my body was being torn to shreds!” His look turns grim. “And, the entire time, I felt like I was in a losing battle with myself. There was just so much _rage _in me. I was _so _angry at everything, and I just knew that, at any moment, I would just lose it and destroy everything, including myself.”

“I just…I don’t know, Rayla,” he says with tears in his eyes. “I want to learn magic, but when I was using that form, it was like I lost part of myself.” He looks away from her, too ashamed to keep his gaze. “That Ocean mage, Nimue…I wanted to hit her again. I wanted to hit her _hard_.”

She combs her fingers through his hair. “I know you did. I know,” she tells him. “Part of me even wanted you to! But then what? Would that make anything better?”

He shakes his head, still not looking at her. Taking his head into her hand, she lifts his gaze to her face.

“I’ve told you before—you’re still you. And that means no form, and no magic power gets to decide who you are. No matter how much magic you learn, you’re still going to have to decide what kind of person you want to be. Because, whoever that Callum is—whether he’s good or bad—that Callum is going to change…everything. For everyone.”

Looking at her, Callum places a hand on hers by his face.

“You’re not the little boy who couldn’t hold a sword anymore. You’re something else too now, Callum. You have to learn to keep all that power in check.”

He nods, taking in what she is telling him. “I…I don’t want to hurt people,” he tells her. His doubt gives way to determination. “I won’t hurt anyone I don’t have to. And, at the end of the day, I want to _help _as many people as I can, not break them.”

Her smile grows so wide she can’t help but laugh softly. “You have, absolutely, _no _idea how proud I am of you. After everything we’ve seen and been through, after how much your magic and your powers have grown, you’re still so gentle. You have _such _a good heart, you will do such great things for your people when you’re back!”

She feels a tinge of melancholy at what she said. When _he’s_ back, but not her.

Still, she pushes those feelings aside to be with Callum in the moment.

He smiles at her, the same goofy grin that she can add to the list of things she fell in love with.

“Thank you, Rayla. I’m glad you’re here with me. I would never have gotten very far by myself…I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

When he kisses her, she lets him. But she is so distracted by her thoughts, she barely kisses him back.

“You should sleep,” she tells him. “I know the sun is coming out, but you need your rest.”

He nods. “I know, but…the things we saw…I can’t unsee that…”

As he begins to spiral again, she holds him tight. She begins to croon and hum the melody to a song she used to hear when she was a small child. Something sung to her to get her to sleep.

She only remembered it as the Moonshadow Lullaby, and while she didn't remember any of the words, the sound of her voice seemed to be lulling Callum back to sleep.

Before long, she feels him drift back to sleep, leaving her alone again. Alone with just her troubled thoughts.

\-----

_It’s always playtime under the Moon_

_I know I know, oh oh oh_

_The ocean sparkles, and the phoenix sings_

_I know I know, oh oh oh _

_The rain shines, and the forests buzz_

_I know, I know, oh, oh, oh_

_The shadows come to dance, my friend_

_The shadows come to play_

_The shadows come to dance, my friend_

_The shadows come to stay_

\--The Moonshadow Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A charming, yet creepy nursery rhyme? Well, to those who think that’s unrealistic, all I have to say to you is “And down will come Baby, Cradle and all.”


	9. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander Micah and the Ocean mage Nimue assess the aftermath.

The sun shimmers over the ruins of Posedia. While the fires that raged throughout the night have gone out, very little of the city remains. What’s left is being swallowed by the creeping tide. The monuments, the presidium, and the great dome stand merely as burned-out husks, while the canals and gardens are replaced with cinders. It would take decades for any Xadian force to rebuild what was destroyed in a single night of misfortune.

Onboard a man-o-war, Micah lowers his head in silent prayer. Even though the human raiders were repelled and they can rebuild, Posedia will never again be at its former glory again.

He led the charge to reclaim the city, bravely manning the vanguard taking the brunt of the enemy’s attacks. The victory at daybreak brought him no joy, as he quietly resigned himself to lead the search for survivors in the ocean.

There weren’t any. Only floating bodies, many of which have begun to sink below the surface. All they could make out were shadowy figures resembling men and women that divers had to retrieve.

_The shadows have come to stay_, Micah recalls from an elven nursery rhyme. It seems to be oddly appropriate here.

Staring deep into the abyss, Micah unearthed even more silhouettes floating just below the waves. Out of the corner of his eye, he feels the presence of an oceancrest elf approaching.

He turns around and makes eye contact with Nimue. He notices her left hand is bandaged, her fingers held in place with bindings. No doubt from her last run-in with the human and the elf prisoners.

“I know it's a minor matter compared to the complete and utter catastrophe I'm looking at here,” he begins. “But it’s still most unfortunate that you let the moonshadow elf, the Dragon Prince, and their human pet escape.”

She glares at him. “I had the assassin and the dragon in my sights. I could have handled them if the human hadn’t interfered. His magic…we may have underestimated him.”

“_We?_” Asks Micah. “If my men and I were there, we would have handled them easily. This situation is entirely on you.”

She shakes her head. “The information you gave me was wrong. You said that the boy was only connected to the Sky Primal.”

“He was.”

Nimue continues. “And the neck brace on the human was only meant to cut him off from the Sky Primal. So, why did I see him drawing magic from the sun? Why did I see him punch through walls and toss elves around like figurines!?”

Micah has nothing to add. “That’s what I thought,” Nimue says. “_We _underestimated him. So now _we _have to do whatever we can to find and kill this…Callum, as soon as we can. Right now, he’s the largest threat to Xadia.”

Micah scoffs. Standing in the epicenter of the greatest war crime in Xadia makes him think otherwise.

“He’s just a mage. And like the rest of us, your kind is just sacks of flesh and blood and some bone to keep it all standing.”

Nimue gripes her bandaged hand. “A mage who is connected to _two_ Primal Sources, Commander! What happens if he gets to four, five, or all of them? What are you and I going to be able to do when it gets too late?”

“Then get him, before it really does become too late.”

Before they can continue, a young sunfire soldier approaches him. “Commander!” he says, saluting his officer. “We found a flag floating by the shores! We think it belongs to the humans who attacked us.”

“Good,” Micah says solemnly. “Bring it to me.”

Doing as he was told, the soldier comes back with the flag. Micah’s face darkens as he examines the red eye at the center. Every officer in the Lux Aurea has come across the symbol of the One-Eyed in their careers.

“Hmm,” Micah thinks to himself. “So, Tublacain had come to our shores?”

He examines the flag in his hands. “You have your war, Glad-o-War,” he declares. “Be very glad, because this is the war you die in.”


	10. Inconvenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla and Callum confront the aftermath of Posedia.

The sun had already risen by the time Callum had awoken. As his eyes fluttered open, he was suddenly jolted awake when he realized he was alone.

He jumps to his feet, his head veering in every direction. He couldn't see Rayla or Zym. His heart starts racing, his breaths become shallow.

But as he gazes to the rocks behind him, he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Rayla perched at the top, Zym next to her.

“You’re awake,” she says coolly. “Good.”

Callum chuckles. “You gave me quite a scare, I thought something happened!”

She shakes her head. “If something did, even _you_ would have heard it.”

He scratches the back of his head. She seems a bit annoyed. “Did you sleep well?”

Rayla doesn’t look at him when she responds. “Nope. I couldn’t sleep at all. Once the sun rose, I just gave up.”

“Oh,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. Did you want to rest for a bit?”

“_No_,” she says pointedly. “We’ve burned a lot of daylight already today. And we lost a lot of time when we were taken to Posedia, and I’m not entirely sure where we are anymore.” She gives an exasperated sigh. “I’d guess we’re probably as far from the Dragon Queen as we were when we crossed the Moonstone Path.”

As she begins to get up, Callum offers her a hand. She ignores it, and she gets to her feet on her own. He catches her hand as she gets ready to walk, and she flinches, her breath hitching in her throat as she snatches it back like his touch burns against her skin.

He raises his brow and tilts his head. Utterly confused, he tries to think back to their last interaction and figure out if he had done something that offended her.

“Is…something wrong?” Callum meekly asks.

“I’m _tired_, Callum,” she angrily tells him. “Let’s get moving.”

He’s taken aback by her tone. On occasion, one or both of them might not get enough sleep the night before, but they have never taken it out on each other. The fact that she’s now giving him the cold shoulder makes Callum feel…alarmed.

As they begin walking, Rayla keeps herself a few steps ahead of Callum. As he comes up to her side, he sees Rayla turn her gaze away as she moves ahead of him. Any time he tries to catch up next to her, she silently picks up the pace until she’s a few feet away. This happens a few times before Callum relents and lets Rayla keep her distance.

He also gives up trying to touch her. Anytime he does, he feels her tense up, move away, or aggressively pull back from him.

Several times, Callum tries to talk to her. Not to ask a question or make an observation about something. Just as an excuse to hear her voice again. Yet, her responses are clipped and short, and he always finds himself feeling guilty. As though he interrupted her thoughts, or she’s annoyed by the sound of his voice.

This puzzles Callum even more. Even when she’s tired or irritated, Rayla always seems to enjoy talking to him. Now that she can’t stand to even say two words to him, it drives Callum crazy to figure out what’s going on.

He is immediately aware something is wrong. Rayla doesn’t want to be touched, and she doesn’t want to be near him. But…why?

After a few hours of walking, Callum perks up. He knows just how to brighten her mood.

“Hey!” he says. “You still owe me three questions! Remember? From that time when we were on the boat, and you said you’d answer five of my questions? I only got two out of you!”

“Yes,” she says, not even bothering to turn around. “Ask your questions.”

Callum’s confidence began to fail him. He was hoping she’d appreciate the callback but wasn’t expecting the curt response.

“Okay,” he says. If I can find a way to get her to open up again, he thinks to himself, maybe I’ll get through to her.

“First question—is all of Xadia this beautiful?” He looks around, seeing the gorgeous trees, the amazing wildlife. He’s gotten used to all the breathtaking sights in Xadia, but even now, he still finds himself swept away by its majesty.

“Yes,” she says. Not quite what he was hoping for.

“Really? Because, after all I’ve seen, it’s just so hard to imagine that every part of Xadia is just so stunning and wonderful.” As he speaks, awe and marvel fill his voice.

But Rayla doesn’t respond. Not right away. “Next question,” she says.

This is going to be much harder than he thought, Callum says to himself. But he’s not giving up that easily.

“Alright,” he says, trying a different approach. He remembers Rayla mentioning to him about how she grew up in a town with other Moonshadow elves. “What’s your hometown like?”

She doesn’t even slow down. “It’s small and very quiet. Like any other town.” Before he could follow up, Rayla interrupts. “Last question,” she says.

This isn’t going well, Callum thinks to himself. Rayla isn’t budging and won’t even tell him what’s wrong. She refuses to let him near her, keeps him from starting a real conversation, and pulls away from him each time Callum tries to touch her. She’s avoiding him, it’s frustrating, and he wants to know why.

If she’s angry with _him_, he’d rather she just tell him. If something else is bothering her, he wants to know about it anyway. Just as long as she stops shutting him out.

He thinks carefully about what he is going to ask next. Very carefully. But he realizes that, right now, there’s only one question in particular he wants to ask before all the rest.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

This stops Rayla in her tracks. Callum freezes as well. Did he set her off?

As she turns around, he’s afraid Rayla might blow up in his face. Instead, she isn’t even looking at him. Her gaze is aimed down at the ground. Her eyes look so sullen and despondent, he can feel her melancholy in his own chest.

“Callum,” her voice is faint as a whisper as she looks up at him. “Was what Micah said true? Would Ez actually marry you off?

Before he could speak, she raises her hand. “No bullshit,” she says. “Just the truth.”

Fine, he thinks to himself. Just the truth. He owes her that.

“To be honest,” he begins. “If the Pentarchy really is in that much of a mess, and if war is coming, then maybe someone in the High Council may have brought it up. But only as a possibility. Ez is too young to be married, and I’m legally an adult now. I’m the only other member of the royal family. If Katolis needs a bargaining chip, a marriage alliance involving me could probably have been suggested. But that doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.”

He tries to keep his words as diplomatic and noncommittal as possible. Nevertheless, Rayla hears the underlying message loud and clear: Ezran could and quite possibly _will_ marry Callum off, if necessary.

She hangs her head and sits down on a tree stump. Her face silently rests in her hands.

“I can’t believe I was so naïve,” she says. “For a moment, after we left Patola, I had this thought in the back of my mind that we’d make it to the Dragon Queen, the war will be over, and we’d be together. But most of that isn’t going to happen…isn’t it?”

“You’re not naïve, Rayla,” he protests, as he lays Zym and his sketchbook on the ground. “The war _will _be over when we get to the Dragon Queen, and when it is, we’ll face whatever comes next together. Just like we said we would.”

She chuckles ruefully. “But you don’t believe that, don’t you?” she asks, more as an accusation than a question. “Not really, anyway. You saw what happened to Posedia, didn’t you? There’s no going back from that. Do you really think a gesture like a human returning Zym to his mother is going to change anything anymore?

Callum crosses his arms and looks to the ground. “See? I didn’t think so,” she tells him. “And when the war really gets underway, Ezran’s going to want you to marry for an alliance. He’ll order you if he has to.”

“Rayla,” he begins. “I don’t want to be with some woman I’ve never even met. I want to be with you.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want!” she snaps, looking at him as though somehow this was his fault. “Ez didn’t want to become a King at ten, yet here he is! What happens when your people demand you set me aside? What happens when you’re forced to marry for an alliance!?”

In three quick steps, Callum finds himself standing over Rayla. He drops to his knees in front of her. He looks up at her face, his hands on her shoulders. “Then I’ll _refuse_. I’m with _you_, Rayla. I want to be with _you_! I don’t know how else to say that!”

“That’s because you can’t say or do anything that’ll fix the problem!” she bursts. “These are your people. They made you their prince. And they can unmake you just as easily. If your King orders you to marry someone, that order will take a life of its own, and you won’t be able to control it or keep them from forcing us apart!”

Callum gets up and backs away, staring at her in shock. “I can’t believe you’re saying any of this! You disobeyed Runaan, the man who was like a father to you, because you knew it was the right thing to do! You helped that dragon escape from Soren and Claudia, because you knew someone had to take a stand! But now you’re telling me I can’t stand up to my people because of what _I _believe? _I _can’t take a stand against both elves and humans marching to war?”

Rayla’s gaze shifts away from him. “No, because you’d only really be doing that for yourself. You’d be disobeying Ez just because you want to be with someone else, not because it might one day break the cycle.”

He gapes before his look hardens. Callum can see in her eyes that she regrets saying that, but it’s too late to stymie his anger. “Really?” he says coldly. “You think I’m just selfish? That I’m just some hopeless romantic, that I couldn’t stand up for a cause? Just what do you think I’m doing here?”

He can see Rayla grow anxious. She lifts her hands, looking as though she’s trying to calm him down while also defending herself. “Callum…you know I didn’t mean it that way. You _are _brave and selfless. You’ve taken a stand in bringing Zym back home…but this is different.”

She sighs, while Callum clenches his fists, impatiently waiting for what she has to say. “Us being together doesn’t help anyone…and if it keeps Ez from making alliances, it becomes an inconvenience.”

“Okay,” he says evenly. His fists remain clenched at his side. “I’m happy you got that all out there…that you think whatever we have between us is just an inconvenience.”

Rayla vigorously shakes her head. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“You know, remember when we were back in that cave in Patola, and you asked me what we were going to do? I was _completely sure _that, no matter what happens, we’d face it together.” He can feel his eyes redden, hot tears pressing on his cold face. “But I guess I was the only one who thought that.”

“Callum…”

He cuts her off. “I can’t do this right now,” Callum says, his eyes facing away. “I have to be alone to just…think and calm down.”

“Wait, Callum!” she shouts.

He doesn’t listen. He jumps up to a nearby tree, his powers propelling him to the next tree before vaulting into the air and away from Rayla and Zym.

And in an instant, he’s gone.


	11. This Delicate Orb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Callum cools off, he discovers something new about himself.

Callum could hear Rayla calling for him to wait as her voice fades in the distance. But he just ignores her and presses on. He doesn’t have anything more to say, and he _needs _to be alone right now.

When he flew off, he didn’t much have a direction for where to go. He settles for the top of the first mountain in his line of sight. The plateau at the pinnacle is cold and desolate, with not even a bird to share it with. At the high altitude, the wind is strong, letting him feel the Sky Primal coursing through him.

So much of Xadia can be seen from the mountain. It’s such a beautiful view, and Callum wishes he can keep this image in his head forever before he remembers that he can if he draws it now.

Callum reaches over to his back before he realizes…he left his sketchbook back with Rayla and Zym. He sighs and puts his hands over his face as he sits down.

I can’t believe I could forget that thing, he thinks to himself. It’s been inseparable from him from the moment his stepfather gave it to him. Yet, the more magic he learns, the more he finds himself neglecting the sketchbook, the very thing which gave him such enjoyment and meaning for so long. It was as though, the more of a mage he becomes, the less of himself there is left.

He thinks to go back and get it, but he can’t. He couldn’t merely fly all the way back, grab his sketchbook in front of Rayla, and then leave her again. He barely had it in him to do it once.

Now here he was, alone and away from all living creatures, without the one thing that could give him comfort.

“GAH!” he yells in frustration and punches the rock behind him. As he hears something crack, he jumps to his feet, startled by the sudden fissure. He sees the rock he just hit split in half, with one side tumbling off the mountain.

Callum looks at his hand in shock. He’s surprised to find only bits of dust on his knuckles. No bleeding and no visible bruises.

“Huh,” he says. “That’s…new.” He looks up at the sun, shielding his face from its glare with his hand. Callum stretches out his other hand to feel the wind, powerful and constant, as he spots a rain shower over a mountain range not too far away.

Callum recalls how what Lujanne once told him—even though Primal Energy is everywhere, it’s weaker and stronger at different times and places. He realizes that, here and now, the emanating energy from the Sun and Sky Primal Sources are particularly powerful, meaning that…so is he.

He looks back at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers. Besides Aaravos, the wizard his Dad mentioned, Callum thinks he’s probably the first person connected to two Primal Sources. The range of his abilities now _far _exceeds that of anyone else. How can he keep that power under control if he doesn’t know its full potential?

Callum takes a breath, leaves his position against the rock, and sits down toward the center of the peak, as he crosses his legs and lets himself levitate just a few feet off the ground. He closes his eyes and just lets the moment arrive to him.

He doesn’t even need to reach into the Primal Sources. He already has them reach into him. The sun and sky flow over him and around him as though he had stepped into a crystal-pure waterfall. When he opens himself to that sparkling stream, it flows into him and through him and out again without the slightest interference from his conscious will.

There are other parts of him here, as well; there is nothing here that is not a part of him, from the tattered hem of his scarf shifting in the wind to the pale white clouds sprinting above. From the shimmering slabs of stone glistening in the light to the blinding sun hovering over the world.

Because this is all part of Primal Magic, as Macchus told him not too long ago.

The sky’s comforting winds blanket him, letting him feel invigorated and free. It’s familiar, steadying, and anchoring his mind. The exercises Macchus taught him have come in handy as a way to explore his still budding powers. His arcanum feels like a muscle, and every time he draws from it, the stronger his connection becomes.

Callum’s mind then wanders to reflect on the Sun Primal. The sun’s rays allow him to let its Primal Energy channel through his veins and break open. Callum feels intensely apprehensive at seeing this sight again as the cracks form on his arms and hands again. This form lets him channel the sun’s heat to wield great strength and speed, but at the cost of his level-headedness and composure.

This form makes him fast and strong, but it _hurts_. It feels as though every piece of him is being broken down, reduced to dust. This feeling soon gives way to rage. Callum grunts and grimaces as he struggles to hold back both the raw strength and the compelling desire to lash out at others.

_Monster_, he thinks to himself. Callum lost count how many sunfire elves he knocked down in Posedia, but somehow he _wanted _to hurt them. He threw hapless soldiers through walls and to the floor, in spite of his usually peaceful nature. Why? What kind of monster thinks so little of the lives of those around him?

He continues to spiral, and wonders what his stepfather—his _father_, he reminds himself— would think of him if he saw his son forget his lesson on strength, love, and forgiveness so quickly.

But then Callum’s thoughts shift to his mother. _Breathe_, he remembers her telling him. He does as he’s told, taking long, deep breaths, even as the pain nearly overwhelms him.

He doesn’t ignore the pain, but he merely accepts it. He doesn’t bury the rage but instead gently lets it go. As he continues to breathe, the pain fades away. Callum looks on his hands and arms, and finds the glowing cracks disappearing, giving way to a light aura tracing around him.

Callum is startled by the new glow, but he finds the light comforting. Whereas the sun’s heat was painful and destructive, the sun’s light was calm and nurturing. His previous form felt like it was breaking him apart, but this form made him feel healed and nourished again. Callum’s cells drink in the sun’s rays, strengthening his body and his magic. As his body blends the magic from the two forms, the power he feels is more sustainable, pure, and above all, _a part of him_.

In Xadia, he’s grown more powerful than he ever thought possible. But just how powerful, he wonders.

He looks up above him, to the open sky. If he wants to know, he’ll have to find out for himself.

Callum bends down, and vaults himself into the air, building momentum as he flies upward. The ground below him grows smaller with each passing second. He breaches the clouds as he continues to push himself faster and faster. He smiles at his success, having never pushed his limits this far.

But his joy is interrupted as the air around him suddenly explodes. Callum is not sure where the booming sound came from, but the shock breaks his concentration. He panics as he loses control, and his distress keeps him from channeling primal energy.

Callum screams as he falls back to the mountain at breakneck speeds, stopped only by his immediate and immense crash as everything cuts to black.

…

….

….

He opens his eyes, seeing debris all around him. Callum is amazed that he’s still alive after his stupid little stunt, but he’s sure he must have broken everything. He begins to move his limbs, grateful that he must not have broken his back. He pulls his hands closer to his face and gapes in shock at them as he lifts himself to a seated position.

Callum is uninjured. There’s not a broken bone, dislocated limb, or large gash on him. There’s not even a scratch or a swell as far as he can see. Just some dust on his clothes.

What should have been a deadly fall had left him unfazed.

He realizes that the magic from the Sun and the Sky must have protected him. That, as long as he’s high up enough, his magical abilities all work in tandem with one another. But what does this mean, he wonders. _What should I do know?_

Keep testing your limits, he finally tells himself.

He climbs to his knees and stands on one of his feet as he prepares to try again. He focuses his mind as he kneels, channeling his Primal Energy once again. All around him, he feels the ground shake, the debris swirling around him. He pushes it out of his mind as he brings Primal Energy as close to himself as possible until, at last, it bursts.

Callum propels into the air, pushing himself through the clouds faster than before. He hears the air explode around him again, but this time he presses forward. _Nothing can hurt me here_, he tells himself.

He flies high above the world before he arches down and heads back to the earth. The sheer force of his speed pulls the clouds with him as he pierces through them. Callum flies down close to the trees on the surface, and panicked birds take flight from the branches at hearing him rush past them.

Approaching the shore, Callum ventures on to explore the ocean. He stays close to the waves, his path splits the water beneath him as he forms ripples crisscrossing in every direction. He throws himself back into the sky and makes his way back to land.

Callum can’t help but grin dumbfoundedly, relishing his newfound freedom. He can go _anywhere_, do _anything_ now. As Callum approaches the mountain top again, he instead pushes himself back into the sky, going deeper and deeper into the vast region above him.

Up here, Callum notices the sky grow dim, even as the sun is still ever-present. Though it doesn’t bother him, he notices that it’s colder up here than anywhere he’s been before. Looking down, Callum can see so much of the world. Much of it is lit up by the sun, but he can see that some parts of the world are covered in shadow, as though the sun’s rays as not yet reached it.

Callum never realized how curved the world was until this moment. He was taught that the world was round, but he never realized just how jaw-droppingly _beautiful _that was. It was this magnificent expanse, stretching boundlessly in every direction. The fact that this world even _exists_ is by itself a blessing beyond measure.

And it was all this one thing, this one _tiny _thing. This delicate orb, larger than any Primal Stone yet still so fragile. How was it that so many people of this world act like they can divide their land from others, and stand separate and above everyone else? If they could just see it from up here, they’d realize how small and precious this world truly is.

That we’re all living in the same world together, Callum thinks to himself. And we’re all we’ve got.

As he spots the moon rising over the horizon, half illuminated by the sun, he’s reminded of Rayla, and a realization hits him as he decides to go back to the mountain. He flies back down and lands back in the plateau, sadly looking at his hands.

He has two arcana deep inside him, potentially making him one of the most powerful people, human or elf, in the world.

But this doesn’t make him _strong_, he thinks to himself. Mere power isn’t strength. That truth was the last piece of wisdom his father instilled in him with his letter. Strength, his Dad taught him, is found in vulnerability, in forgiveness, in love. And all the power in the world doesn’t measure up to an ounce of strength.

But Rayla, he realizes, _is _strong. She willingly and without hesitation, gave up everything in her life at a slim chance to stop the war. She risks her life for others simply because it’s the right thing to do. She’s trusted him from the very beginning. She was willing to lose her hand for a child she barely knew. She’s allowed herself to be vulnerable before him when she had every reason not to be. She’s forgiven him for every one of his mistakes. And ever since entering Xadia, she’s been nothing but caring, and doting, and intimate with him.

It was Rayla who taught him that, to break the cycle, _someone_ had to take a stand when no one else would. Someone like them.

She’s strong and taught him to be strong as well. Yet he left her alone, to worry about what happens to him, and to fear that he’ll never come back. How could he have treated someone so good with such coldness?

“I have to go back,” he determines. “I have to go to where I belong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to nip some thoughts in the bud: No, Callum does not travel into space! I'd say he ends up in the upper troposphere/lower stratosphere, so still well within the sky where quite a bit of the world is visible.


	12. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Callum flies back to Rayla, the two of them clear the air.

Rayla shouts after him.

“Callum, wait!”

But it was too late, and he was out of earshot in an instant. He jumps between the trees so quickly that all Rayla sees is a blur. Building his momentum, he finally propels himself away, and in a matter of seconds, she can no longer make him out.

She sighs, hanging her head down. She anxiously paces for several minutes, Zym following her heels. Before long, she realizes the futility of riling herself up and sits down on a log. The sky dragon climbs up and lays his head on her lap. As she strokes his head with one hand, she plays with her blade in another.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Callum’s sketchbook, its strap hanging loosely over a rock. It’s strange, she thinks, he’d leave it behind. But Rayla is a little curious as to what he’s been sketching recently, and for a moment, she reaches her hand out to take it.

She then thinks better of it. Even if looking through it might help pass the time, Rayla knows she can’t invade his privacy like that. Instead, she rests her head on her hands, as her elbows rest on her knees.

An hour passes by, and still no sight of Callum. Her fear for him has given way to frustration. He should know better. Xadia is a dangerous place for him, and he shouldn’t run off at a moment’s notice. Every elf they encounter would want to kill him. He’s so incredibly irresponsible. He’s so damned reckless!

He’s…He’s…actually not doing anything she hadn’t done before, if Rayla was being honest with herself. She’d run off before, like when she went to fight Soren and save the dragon.

She’s peeled off from the group before, sometimes without much forewarning. Now Callum is returning the favor. And he’s gotten so good at magic, she can’t even catch up to him. She can blink, he could run off, and she has no way to stop him.

Now that he’s done precisely that, all she can do is wait with Zym and hope he comes back.

“Well,” she says to Zym, ruefully, as she strokes his chin. “I guess the shoe is on the other foot, then, ain’t it?”

Rayla wonders when did Callum’s powers reach a point where she couldn’t keep up with him. She’s not entirely sure when his abilities eclipsed hers. They’ve only been in Xadia for a few weeks. Yet the gap between what she can do and what he can do is growing wider with each passing day.

Yet it doesn’t bother her that he’s this gifted. What really bothers her is that, in an instant, he could be gone. One second he’s there, and the next he’s entirely out of reach. While she worries about his safety, she’s come to rely so much on him that, now that he’s gone, she can’t help but feel exposed and unsafe. It makes her uneasy and scared of facing a future alone, of a future without _him_.

What if this is it, she asks herself. What if Callum never comes back?

Rayla’s thoughts are interrupted as she thinks she hears something zip by, but it’s too quick for her to spot. Her eyes scan the sky above her, but there’s nothing. She thinks it might have been a small bird flying past her ears.

She can feel the fatigue catch up to her. She nervously looks around, as Zym rests in her lap. Rayla is a bit apprehensive at having to wait by her lonesome, especially when it’s so difficult to stay awake.

Her exhaustion comes in waves. At times, she struggles to keep her eyes open, but other times she catches a second wind that jolts her awake.

Either she had another sleepy spell, or she had blinked. In any case, she suddenly sees a bluish-red figure before her, with an unmistakably familiar scarf. Callum had returned.

And he had returned so suddenly, it shocked Rayla awake. As she jumps to her feet, Callum walks right past her and to their things.

“Callum,” she scolds him. “That was so stupid, you shouldn’t have run off like that!”

He barely looks at her as he picks up his sketchbook bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I was never that far away. Most of the time, I was just perched over there.” He points to a mountain on the horizon, barely visible in the distance.

Rayla squints as she tries to make out the mountain. “Callum, that must be ten miles away!” she exclaims.

“Right,” he replies, unemotionally. “So, I was never more than a minute or two away from you.”

She glares at him. Since when was he this arrogant, she asks herself. He might be telling the truth, and Rayla knows Callum can be a jerk sometimes, but he’s never rubbed it in her face that he’s much more capable he’s than her.

It riles her up, and Rayla struggles to keep her irritation in check.

“Well, _I _can’t get there in a minute or two,” she tells him levelly. “What if you got in trouble? What if some elves tried to hurt you?”

His eyes don’t meet hers as he exhales. “You know they can’t,” he says to Rayla. He doesn’t _sound _arrogant to her. He just sounds wearied, exhausted, as though this fact is almost more trouble than it’s worth.

She tries to put her frustration behind her. “Callum, I’m not trying to lecture you. I was just worried when you ran off like—”

“Like you?” He interjects, scowling at her. He must have been thinking back to when Rayla ran off in Katolis to protect the dragon.

She looks away. Saving that dragon was the right thing to do, but abandoning Callum without so much as letting him finish his sentence must have stuck with him all this time.

“Ok, I deserve that,” she replies, dejection in her voice.

His look turns sour as he crosses his arms and looks away from her. She recognizes his stance; at times, when Rayla is no longer in the mood to argue, she has closed herself off from him before in exactly the same way. But Callum has always been open and approachable to her. Now that he isn’t, she becomes alarmed.

As she cautiously approaches him, she extends her hand to his shoulder but stops short of touching him before withdrawing it. She worries that, if she touches him, he’ll simply shake away her hand, and confirm her worst fears—that she is losing him.

But then he speaks.

“I’m still upset at you,” he says, turning around slightly, though not enough to face her. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t have run off like that. I’m sorry for leaving you alone.” He takes a breath. “And you’re also right that nothing I can say will fix the problem.” He lets out a tired sigh. “If Ez orders me to marry someone…I can’t stop him.”

Her heart sinks. She knows Callum can’t turn his back on his people, but hearing it from him, and seeing him so…resigned made her realize just how unfair this was. Not only to _her_ but to _him_. Even when he’s angry at Rayla, he never stopped caring about her…and she realizes he never will.

She has to tell him, Rayla thinks as she slowly scoots toward him. She just doesn’t know how.

Callum’s grown, she notices. They’ve only known each other for a few months, so it wasn’t by much. But as she draws herself closer, Rayla sees how she now has to look up at him to meet his eyes. Again, she finds herself hesitant to touch him, too afraid he’ll ward off her hand and drain what confidence she has to confide in him.

“Callum, I have to tell you something,” Rayla says. “Moonshadow elves hold duty and honor as our highest virtues. Everything we do, we do because it’s what’s best for our people. We don’t often give ourselves the luxury of being…selfish.”

He shoots her a poisoned glare. Not off to a good start, she thinks to herself.

She kneads her hands. “When I first began training as an assassin, I did it to follow in the footsteps of my parents. I wanted to make them proud, I wanted to make my people proud. And when the Dragon King was killed, I joined Runaan on the mission to Katolis.”

She hesitates. Rayla knows she is treading on thin ice here. This mission ended King Harrow’s life. Rayla didn’t want to sound like she was defending the murder of Callum’s stepfather. Yet she sees his gaze soften, his eyes fixed on her, inviting her to continue. She can see it clearly again; Callum _wants _her to open up to him.

“And I did that because I wanted to avenge the fallen king and his heir. To do what’s best for Xadia. To restore our honor. Then when it turned out the Dragon Egg survived, I journeyed with you and Ezran to redeem my parents. My comrades. And to prevent a war that would have destroyed everyone.”

She takes a breath and places her hands on Callum’s cheeks, as the two of them locked eyes. Rayla is relieved he doesn’t stop her.

“But Callum,” she begins. “You are the first thing I wanted in my life because it made _me_ feel good. Because it was right for _me_.”

A faint smile appears on his lips as his body turns to face her. “I know,” he whispers. His crossed arms drop to his side, as though relaxed from having to carry a weight on them.

She smiles as well. “I _adore _you, Callum. So very much. And I don’t want to lose you. But you have to understand why it’s so hard for me to be selfish. To take you away from your people and keep you from fulfilling your duty to your kingdom.”

He places his hands on hers, not letting them leave his face. “I know, Rayla. I know. I adore you too. More than anyone or anything. You know how important you are to me. I’m not giving you up.”

She places her forehead on his. “So, are we…okay?”

“Rayla,” he softly whines. “You know better than that. You know that we are always okay.”

She can’t help but laugh, ever so softly. “Right,” she says. “We are always okay.” 

Callum leans in and presses a soft kiss on her lips. One of his hands takes the back of her head, while the other finds the small of her back and pulls her in.

Rayla lets him guide her movements. She had been so scared of losing him forever, that all she wants is to know that he’s there. As her hands make their way to his shoulders and his hair, Rayla feels herself lifted upward by his arms.

She yelps, but his grip is steady and firm.

Their kiss deepens, and she whispers his name as her arms encircle his head. The way he holds her makes her feel like she doesn’t weigh anything at all. 

He was gone, and now he’s back. She tightens her grip around him, almost as though making sure he doesn’t fly off again. Before, she wasn’t used to being this vulnerable around someone or wanting someone in this way. But, she is now, and she’s happy to have him now.

And she is so thrilled he wants her this much too. Somehow, even as the feeling of his lips pressed against hers feels normal now, his affection always feels invigorating.

He pauses as he looks Rayla in her eyes, still holding her up.

“Rayla, I am _always _on your side,” he says to her. His words settle what little worry remained in her.

“I know you are,” she replies. “And I’m always on yours.”

As they embrace, Rayla rests her head on Callum’s shoulder. After a few moments, she wiggles her feet, hovering just over the ground.

“You can put me down now, happy prince,” she mutters into his ear.

“Oh. Right,” Callum says, gently placing her down. “Happy elf.”

Rayla chuckles at his line. In part because it’s a charming quip, but also because it’s true. She _is _happy. She was ecstatic when she realized Callum had feelings for her, but she’s happy now when, looking into his eyes, Rayla can see what he’ll never stop reminding her how much he cares about her.

Just then, her fatigue catches up with her again. Maybe its because all of Rayla’s anxiety disappeared, but the exhaustion hits her all at once as she stumbles.

Callum catches her, looking uneasy. “Rayla, what just happened?”

Suddenly her eyelids felt extremely heavy. “I’m alright,” she mumbles. “I didn’t sleep last night, I guess that’s not a good thing.”

Rayla chuckles, but Callum simply raises a brow. “You should lay down and rest then.”

She slowly shakes her head. “No. We lost a lot of time, we need to hurry again.”

Her head bobs downward as her eyes close. “I’m alright, I just need to rest my eyes while we walk.”

Callum places his hands on her head. “_Please _get some rest,” he pleads. “Just sleep for a few hours, and when it’s dark, I can wake you up, and we’ll keep walking.”

“Callum…” she protests.

“_And _there’s a full moon tonight,” he reminds her. “You’ll be at the peak of your strength, and I’d be willing to walk in the middle of the night with you. Just as long as you have some rest now.”

Rayla almost laughs. He’s so sweet, she thinks.

“Fine, stubborn prince,” she smiles at him. She lays down against a log, tugging Callum down with her. He complies and lets her swing her arms around him as she places her head on his chest. Callum places his arms around her too and pulls her close.

“You’re very warm,” she tells him softly. “And comfortable. Are you sure you’re not a bed?”

Rayla feels Callum place a kiss on the crown of her head and murmur into her hair. “Just get some sleep. I can look after us.”

“Will you really?” she asks him, gripping him tighter.

She feels Callum’s chest move as he chuckles. “Always,” he whispers.

Sleep begins to take her over almost immediately. The last thing she remembers is quietly mumbling a “thank you” and something about “love.” She’s not sure if Callum hears either of those things.


	13. A New Phase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla make a nightly trek to make up for lost time.

As the sun sets, its last light illuminates the cloudy horizon, bringing a bright orange hue over the world. It’s the day’s last gasp before giving way to night. As the shine illuminates the forest, Callum is lost in his own thoughts while Rayla sleeps against his shoulder. Her arms hug Callum’s chest, while one of his gently holds her back.

He can feel her gentle, slow breaths on his chest. Rayla’s calm is soothing to him, as though the rhythm of her back rising and falling settles him. Callum looks at her restful face, glowing in the twilight. She’s so beautiful and breathtaking, he thinks. It feels odd to think that right now, while she lies there entirely oblivious to his musings. Then again, he always feels so fondly of her when seeing her before him, awake or otherwise. While it took him some time before he truly fell for her, he doesn’t remember a time when he _didn’t _think she was beautiful.

He keeps looking at her, as though trying to keep this memory ingrained in his mind for all time. Callum _wants _to sketch her, but doing so while she’s sleeping seems unfair and a little invasive. _He_ certainly wouldn’t want his own portrait taken while he’s asleep. So, Callum settles for just looking at her, occasionally turning to his sketchbook to doodle some other sights.

Eventually, he stops looking at her altogether. Perhaps, he thinks, she wouldn’t want that, even from him. Instead, he focuses on his drawings, struggling to sketch in the fading sunlight.

Callum reaches into his bag for another charcoal pen, but his hands find the Key instead. Curious, he pulls the cube out and presses it against his chest.

Just as he thought, both the sky _and _the sun runes glow. He’s never seen that happen before—only one side would light up at any time, and it’s always the arcanum of the nearest creature.

But what if someone understands _two _arcana, like Callum? Apparently, he has his answer, but it only raised more questions: What happens if he understands them all? What happens when _all six sides _light up?

Before long, it becomes too dark for him to sketch, and the glow on Rayla’s face fades. Callum sighs as he shifts. The time had come.

“Hey,” he whispers gently, stroking her hair. “The sun’s out, we should get moving.”

Rayla’s eyes flutter open, and she moves away from Callum as she stretches her arms.

“Oh, that felt so good,” she yawns. “That nap hit my sweet spot just right.” She jumps to her feet. “Ready to go!”

Callum chuckles. “I’m glad you’re so chipper. Do you know where we’re going?”

Rayla nods, as she lends Callum a hand and helps him up. “I do, now that the stars are out. Remember Garlath’s Furnace of Souls?

He sighs. “Yes, unfortunately.”

She smiles. “Well, there it is.” Rayla points to a corner of the sky, barely visible under the tree canopy. One bright star shines brighter than the rest. “So, that’s to our south, which means the shore is to our east. Since we’re less than a day from Posedia…that body of water has to be Pandora Bay.” She moves her extended arm until she’s pointing into the forest. “So, the direction we want to be headed is to our northwest. That way.”

Rayla beams at Callum. “Impressed?”

He nods, smiling. “Always. Lead the way!”

Eagerly, Rayla starts walking, as Callum lifts Zym and runs up beside her. This time, Rayla lets him catch up.

Grinning, she extends her arms and takes a deep breath. “_Oh_, it feels so good having the full moon out. I haven’t felt this alive in weeks!”

“Can you always feel it when the moon goes through a new phase?” Callum asks.

Rayla looks at him. “Don’t you, when the sun is out, or there’s a strong breeze?”

He thinks for a moment. “Yea, actually. I feel like I’ve been fed after being hungry, or I’m hydrated after feeling thirsty. Like something is filling me up. Is that what you feel?”

Rayla nods, then her lips curl up into a smirk. “Look at you, with your arcano-whatevers, connected and all.” She giggles. “A few weeks ago, you were just an awkward little boy from Katolis. You’ve come _far_, Callum.”

He puts his arm around her, drawing her close. “_Hey_, this awkward little boy managed to get the drop on you. You were an assassin! How was I able to pull a curtain over you?”

Rayla pokes his chest. “I had you dead to rights, you know? I think I get _some _credit for that.”

Callum snickers. “Fair enough.”

She moves away from his arm and jumps onto a tree branch above them. She climbs to the very top and looks around the forest above the canopy. “I definitely got a feel for where we are.” Rayla gazes down at Callum, looking solemn. “We got really set back. It might be weeks, or even a month or two before we can get to the Dragon Queen.”

Callum grimaces. “That would be too long. By then, there may be no hope to stop the war just by returning Zym.”

She frowns. “It’s all we can do…I’m sorry.”

Callum looks down at Zym, the two of them exchanging the same hopeless look. It’s not fair, he thinks. They’ve gone through all this effort, only for it not to matter by the time they get there.

He sighs. They tried to change the world…but it wasn’t enough. And it just flew in the face of everything Callum believed they could do.

Suddenly, his face brightens, as inspiration lights up in his mind.

“How about we just fly there,” he tells Rayla. “That’ll save time!”

She gives him a funny look, so he continues. “I figured out how to sustain flight. Even though I was using Sun magic to help me…I think I can do it now too!”

Rayla grins. “Alright then!” She drops to the ground, walks up to Callum, and unhesitatingly extends her arms. Callum is a little taken aback how readily willing she is.

“I trust you,” she reassures.

Callum nods. “Ok,” he says nervously. He lifts her up as she continues to smile at him.

“Zym, buddy!” he exclaims, “Your turn!” 

When Zym jumps on Callum’s back, he begins to focus on the Sky Primal, trying to fill himself with its Primal Energy. Yet he can’t quite get it right this time, and they remain fixed to the ground.

He’s distracted, Callum realizes. This is nothing like how I flew before, he thinks. What if I can’t do it this time? What if I drop Rayla or Zym?

Rayla must see his insecurity, so she leans up to peck him on the cheek. “Don’t let go, “she whispers.

It reminds Callum of the time back in Patola. He had carried her then too, and she told him the same thing them as they levitated together. He smiles, whispers “Never,” and focuses again. This time, he feels themselves being pulled upward, through the trees and out from under the canopy, and they take off with no issues.

He flies slowly, but consistently above the forests, as Rayla looks around the valley.

“It’s so beautiful up here,” she says. “I’ve never been this high up before! It’s amazing that you can just see this any time you want!”

Callum smiles as he stares down at her. “Yea. It really is beautiful.”

Rayla snorts, still looking at the valley. “I know you’re just looking at me. Since when did you become so clichéd, corny prince?”

He feels Zym getting restless as he moves around on Callum’s back. The dragonling’s footsteps make their way up and down his backside before finally leaping into the air. Both Callum and Rayla gasp, and Callum feels a sudden weight drop in his chest. But Zym just extends his wings and flies effortlessly. He zips around Callum and Rayla, drawing circles through and around them with his path.

“He’s gotten so good!” Rayla exclaims as she gives Callum a knowing look. “He must have learned by watching you.”

Callum smiles. “Look at you, surrounded by your flying boys.”

“At this rate, I probably never need to walk anywhere again,” she replies. “I’ll just hitch a ride from one of you.”  
  


They fly for some time, with the full moon hovering above them. Rayla points to a distant mountain top. “I think that’s a good stopping point over there. Can you set us down?”

Callum does as she asks, and lands on the rocky surface. Zym quickly follows suit and lands on his back.

Rayla crosses her arms as she inspects the valley below. “I’m impressed how much ground we covered tonight!” she exclaims. “That was about a day’s journey in under an hour! At this rate, we’ll reach Zym’s mother in no time!”

“Good!” Callum says. “So, we can take our time and relax for a bit.”

She raises a brow. “Feeling lazy already, are we?”

He gapes in mock offense. “Hey, Your golden chariot would like to take a rest stop, thank you very much!”

Rayla puts her arms around him. “Yes yes, my golden chariot,” she teases. “Wherever will I be without my magic boy?”

When they part, Callum and Rayla look up at the moon and stars. “It’s so wonderful,” he says. “It just feels like we’re kinda in a totally different world, and yet—”

“—the sky is still the same,” Rayla quips, jabbing his side with her elbow. “You’ve already used that line on me once.”

He chuckles. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.” He points up at a cluster of stars. “That’s actually a constellation too, we call it ‘The Little Boy and His Flower.’ You can see where his arm is and—”

Callum turns, but Rayla is missing.

“Rayla?” he asks, startled. “Rayla?!”

He spins around. Did Rayla wander off? Were there hunters on the mountain, or was she taken? Oh gods, he thinks. Callum clenches his fists, ready for anything.

Suddenly, he hears her snicker, and Callum breathes a sigh of relief. He remembers that she can turn invisible—he had seen the other Moonshadow assassins do so—but he’s never seen Rayla do it herself.

Callum feels her hands gently stroke his back, so he turns around. “You’re not the only one with magic powers, loud mage,” she says.

He smiles. “Enjoy it while you can. One day, I’ll learn the moon arcanum too.”

Callum can make out her outline, and can still see her eyes, brightening as though she’s smiling. “I’m counting on it,” Rayla says.

“Well,” he begins. “Once we get Zym back to the Dragon Queen, and this whole thing is all over, I’ll have plenty of time to figure out the moon arcanum.”

Just then, Callum notices her eyes grow soft and sullen. Instead of brightness, all he sees is hurt in them.

His smile disappears, and confusion takes hold. “What’s wrong, did I say something bad?”

Rayla is silent for the longest time. He sees her eyes looking away from him. She ducks her head, and Callum can feel her try to keep her breathing steady.

He takes her hands into his, rubbing the backs of hers with his thumbs.

“Rayla,” he whispers. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“I’m…” she begins before taking a breath.

“I’m…not ready for this to be over.”

Callum raises a brow. “What are you talking about? Rayla, I’m not saying _we’ll _be over!”

“Won’t we?” she’s quiet when she speaks.

This only frustrates Callum. Not this again, he thinks.

“Rayla,” he half-whines, his voice is a bit scolding. “No one is going to force us apart, I promise you!”

She shakes her head. “But it’s _possible_,” she says as she slowly begins to appear. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Callum can now make out her hands and legs. “You might have to go home, and get matched with a beautiful, loving bride, and be asked to form an alliance.”

Her features become fully visible, and Callum can see her face again as she shakes her head. “And I…I don’t want that,” she finally admits. “I don’t want you to go back to marry some woman you’ve never met, even to help your people!” He can see her eyes start watering, and when she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “Callum, I want you to be with _me_.”

The tears start streaming down her face. “And I’m _such _a terrible person for thinking that!”

He shakes his head. “You are not a terrible person!” he declares. “You are so many things. So many great things! You’ve never been, and you never will be terrible.”

His hands make their way to her cheeks. “You are the strongest, kindest, and most selfless person I’ve ever known.”

Callum wipes the tears from her eyes and gently presses his lips against hers. He’s wanted to tell her so badly how he feels. That he cares about her more than anything. That his life belongs with her, that his life belongs _to _her.

As they part, he speaks.

“I love you, Rayla.”

She simply gapes at him. Rayla must think that she misheard him, but she didn’t. That this is all her imagination, and that she’ll wake up resting against Callum and sorely disappointed. But it isn’t.

Finally, the realization dawns on her, and her lips curve into the widest grin he’s ever seen on her.

“I love you too, Callum.” She says.

“I know,” was his only response.

She’s suddenly so overwhelmed with joy that she leaps on him and encircles his head with her arms. He hugs her back as they hold each other tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers to him.

Callum smiles. “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he says. He lets her down, and Rayla looks back up to him.

“And when Zym’s home, after…” she trails off.

Callum tugs her closer: “_Every day_ after, Rayla. I promise.”

“_Callum_…” she whispers.

They kiss again, as Callum’s heart flutters. When they part, he rests his forehead against her. He figures that, even now, she’ll want to keep going as long as they can and make up for lost time.

“We should get moving,” he says to her.

He feels Rayla slowly shake her head against his. “Be with me,” she pleads quietly. “For just a little while longer.”

So Callum embraces her again. She rests her head on his shoulder. He wants so badly to just stay here forever, to never again feel the absence of her presence.

“I love you so much,” he says into her ear. “Don’t ever forget that.”

She grips him tighter. “Don’t let me.”


	14. Epilogue: The Fallen Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Startouch elf draws closer to his final victory.

Within the mirror, silence fills the empty void now that Aaravos has left. His body rests, still imprisoned, but his mind has ventured off beyond its confines.

As the Startouch elf sits cross-legged, he places himself with Viren, standing with him as the human remains chained to a chair, seeing his surroundings with the human’s eyes.

The more time he spends in Viren’s mind, the more of Aaravos there is, and the less of Viren’s will there is to compete with. The worm in the Human Mage’s head has immersed itself in his deepest thoughts, finding everything it needed—insights, secrets, and knowledge—to subsume his mind.

Aaravos can see Viren’s every wish, every intent. As he molds him into the perfect instrument, Aaravos pushes out every doubt from his mind, stripping away any desire that is not his own. He drains all of Viren’s autonomy like sand in a sieve.

They rest together now. Two prisons, but of one mind. In the end, all that would be left is the Startouch elf with Viren in his thrall.

Aaravos calls upon Primal Energy, gathering it to himself and wrapping himself within it. He breathes it in and holds it whirling inside his heart, clenching it down upon it until he can feel the spin of the universe around him.

Until he became the axis of Xadia.

This was the real power behind the Primal Sources, the power he had suspected even as he was still mastering it. He had sought this power through his long life until he realized it had been his all along. Magic didn’t bring him to the center of all things. It _made _him the center.

He drew power into his innermost self until the Primal Sources existed only to serve his will.

It helps him to see with more than eyes alone. He observes the rest of the Katolis castle. He sees everything, from the young king sleeping with his glow toad, to the High Council adviser arguing with the young tracker over the king’s state of mind, and the Crow Master receiving news of Xadia’s declaration of war on all of Humanity.

He sees Viren’s son, the Crownguard captain, accompanies his sister, the Dark Mage prodigy, as they descend into the dungeons.

Aaravos morphs Viren’s mind so that he can see the Startouch elf before him. Just a ghost, a vision only the Human Mage can see, but as vivid as any real creature.

“They’re coming,” Aaravos whispers. “You must be ready.”

He can sense Viren’s confusion, as his mind stirs, synapses fire. “Who? Who is coming?”

“Your children,” he answers. “They want to know what happened. Why you sit in a gloomy cell.”

Viren sighs ruefully. “Then I’ll tell them the truth. I betrayed our people, killed innocent men and women, and all for…"

His resolve is failing him again, Aaravos thinks. So, he takes his doubts away.

“I…I could have sworn I was about to say something…” he thinks.

“_No_,” Aaravos tells him. “Your confidence wavered. The time you’ve spent in this cell has weakened your determination.”

“That…that’s not it,” Viren replies weakly. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have done any of this.”

Aaravos moves through his mind. “Why shouldn’t you have? Harrow lost his way long before the Moonshadow assassins came to kill him. His son will fail to stop the elves and dragons from wiping out your people. You did what needed to be done.”

He feels Viren shake his head. “I never told you any of that, so you must be able to hear my thoughts…so you know why I did what I did.”

“Yes,” Aaravos agreed. “"I've seen your heart, and I know how empty it was. I've seen your anger, and I know how deep it was. I've seen your ambition, and I know how ruthless it was. And all of that would have ultimately destroyed you."

The Startouch elf takes a breath. “But this was before you found me. Before I made you see the truth. Isn’t that right?”

“_Yes_,” Viren says. It’s his own voice, but the thoughts belong to Aaravos. "Even though I knew that the Pentarchy was weak, the High Council fallible, and Dark Magic far from perfect, I remained as High Mage to King Harrow for years. Why? Because I still believed that I could accomplish some good as the king’s closest adviser. I thought I could bring about some positive changes, right certain wrongs, and do better than maintain the status quo. In short, I was an utter fool."

“You were,” Aaravos agrees. “But you learned from your mistakes. That is admirable. You knew to seek aid from those who would help you.”

“_You_, you mean?” Viren spat back. Aaravos feels his mind resist again. “You told me what to do, and look what happened?! I’m now in this dungeon, awaiting my execution.”

Aaravos chuckled. “Not so. Soon the other kingdoms will come around. They’ll demand Katolis join them in their retribution. And who will Katolis turn to when facing the wrath of Xadia?”

Viren’s mind settled once again. “The man who knew all along.”

“So,” Aaravos continues. “There will be no execution. Your people will come to see you as a hero.”

“What makes you so sure?” he asks. “_You_ were imprisoned, and you only thought you were only helping Humanity. I imagine that was a surprise, even to you.”

Aaravos strokes his chin.

“Yes, I was imprisoned,” Aaravos retorts. “But those who have imprisoned me are all long dead. I, however, have survived. And I have created a legacy so resilient that, a thousand years after the Division of Xadia, you come to me for help.”

Viren shifts uncomfortably in his chair. There’s not much room for him to adjust, but he attempts to relish the little freedom he’s afforded in his cell.

“If I lead our people to war,” Viren says. “The elves and dragons will react in kind. They may even come to the Five Kingdoms and fight us here…we could lose everything.”

“Let the Old World die, Lord Viren.” Aaravos’ voice pierces Viren’s innermost self. “Burn it, if you have to. That’s the only way you and your kind will be able to return to Xadia.”

“…Why are you helping me?” asks Viren.

“Because you asked me to,” Aaravos replies directly. “Because I am your servant.”

The Startouch elf sees Viren’s children approach the cell.

“We need to be quick about this, Clauds,” Aaravos hears one of them say. “No one knows we’re down here. I’m pretty sure we’d end up in one of these cells if they did.”

He motioned towards Viren’s cell. “Down there!” As they approach the door, Aaravos sees them gasp.

“Dad,” the boy whispers. “We came as soon as we heard! What happened?”

Viren shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m alright, Soren. Do you have the Dragon Egg?”

The daughter solemnly shakes her head. Abruptly, her grave expression shifts to misplaced cheerfulness. “_But_, we were able to find this super-cool dragon horn! I think we could turn this into some kind of spear, maybe a…”

As they continued to talk, Aaravos moved his attention elsewhere. His ghostly façade disappears from Viren’s sight. He was content to let Viren speak with his children alone. He’ll need Viren for the time being. He needs him to believe that Aaravos is his servant, all the while Viren is serving _him_.

But this is all temporary, for Viren is no ideal partner. He’s too hotheaded and lacks both vision and creativity. In spite of his best efforts to master Dark Magic, he was never able to truly master the Great Mystery beyond what he could read in a book.

Spells and alchemy. What narrow-mindedness. Is that all he thinks a mage can do with magic?

Viren could never be a true partner for Aaravos’ plans, but there is someone who can. Yes, he thinks to himself. Someone far younger, _far _more powerful, and still discovering the depths of his limitless potential.

He first heard whispers of his presence in the Sky Nexus. Initially, he thought the Skywing mage was exaggerating, but once he felt what happened in Posedia…there’s no more room to doubt what he heard anymore.

Aaravos can feel his presence, but he can’t quite _see _him. Not the way he sees others, witless humans and elves fumbling around in the darkness. But _this_ one is nearly invisible, only appearing to Aaravos as an event horizon.

In the thousand years that Aaravos had walked the earth, he had always believed that someone like him was possible. That someone like him would one day arrive in the world.

Now that he has, Aaravos can’t help but be pleased that he’s a prize beyond the elf’s highest expectations. He’s even more powerful than he thought he’d be. Magic comes as natural to him as breathing. He pushes the boundaries that even Aaravos hasn’t been able to touch. And best of all, Aaravos can sense the taint of Dark Magic, that mark of unrestrained ingenuity, within him.

A _perfect _protégé, he thinks.

In due time, Aaravos will be free from his wretched prison, and as soon as he is, he’ll be ready to make his next move.

All I have to do is remove a few obstacles, Aaravos thinks, and his mind will be mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues in the Earth Nexus!


End file.
